What Dreams are Made of

By Edna McCabe

Part 7 - Mother Comes to Stay

When Grace was seven and Valerie two, my mother came to live with us. Valerie remembers the day her granny's furniture arrived. At the time Joe, my brother, was about to get married and so my mother felt very lonely. I think she assumed Joe would live with her forever. To be fair to Joe, he asked her to come and live with him and his wife, Marie. However, mother decided to come and live in Athlone.

Martin fixed up a bedroom for her and installed her wardrobe, bedside locker and electric fire. She didn't want to use an electric blanket so we organised hot-water bottles for her. Thought she was comfortable with us she missed Rathmines and the circle of friends who were only a few minutes from her. At first it seemed strange having her around as, from the day my dad died, she always dressed in black. However, she loved the children and we were all happy together.

Soon I was pregnant again but this time I made up my mind that I was not going to go to Dublin. After all, Valerie could have been born anywhere; and we went through a lot of unnecessary disruption at the time of her birth. I knew that if the smallest thing went wrong I would have to transfer to Dublin. Luckily, nothing did go wrong. I stuck to my diet and made regular visits to the doctor and, in due course, an eight-pound baby girl was born in St. Vincent's Hospital in Athlone. She was my gentle child and she deserved the lovely name of Mary.

I remember something special about each of my children; in Mary's case it is the day she was baptised. On the day in question Martin and Mary's godmother, Mary Gaffey, arrived at the hospital to take Mary to the church. That was the way things were done in those days, as they kept mothers in hospital a week longer than nowadays. In any event, they should have been back within an hour but there was no sign of them. Nurse Broderick was on duty and she was furious; she demanded to know where Martin and Mary had taken the baby. Though she was a wonderful nurse, everyone was afraid of her. I could sense that she was going to give Martin the length and breadth of her tongue so I was in tears. It seems the priest had forgotten there was a christening on that day and he had gone off to the local Horse Show.

Martin and Mary did manage to have the baby christened and she was called Mary Margaret. "Mary" was chosen because the christening took place on 8 September, Our Lady's birthday and "Margaret" was added in honour of both of Mary's grandmothers. As for Nurse Broderick, she never did give Martin that tongue-lashing because he had been wise enough to phone and explain why there had been a delay.

When Mary was only a year and three months old, there was another baby on the way. I was a bit tired this time but I still had to go on that silly diet and make all those visits to the doctor. So Martin took over most of the housework chores like cleaning windows and polishing the lino - we didn't have carpets on those days. He, thank goodness, had great hours in the army. He was up first every morning, he lit the fire and he had the porridge bubbling away on the range. As usual, he engaged the girls' interest in the wonders of nature as they unfolded in his beloved garden.

He spoilt Mary and she was the first to be taken up to bed at night and the first to be taken down in the mornings. She followed him everywhere and called him "Martin". She used to sit on the wall outside the house at lunchtime and in the evenings, and wait or him to come home. Martin even made a special horsehair cushion for her so she wouldn't get cold while she waited. My mother couldn't get over seeing Mary trotting off, all on her own, to her perch on the wall.

And so my forth girl was born in Athlone Hospital, another seven-and-a-half pound baby. And not ever thinking that I'd have a boy, I named the new arrival after her dad, Martina Frances. As the years went by she became know as Tina. She was a real tearaway from the day she was born. She was the only one to venture past the gate and away up the hill at the back of the house. On two occasions we had to pull her out of the ditch where she had gone for "a little walk" with two boys. When we asked the boys where she was they said, "In the ditch". (What a pity we didn't leave you there, Tina!).

I remember on another occasion she went off to the barracks to find her dad. We were always out looking for her; so Martin got the idea of fencing in the back yard. This was no problem to Tina, she just dug a hole under the fence and got out. We never knew whom or what she'd bring in; it might be anything from stray dogs, to cats, to children.

When Tina and Mary grew up they became very close and Tina, although she was younger, became Mary's champion and kept a protective eye on her when they were in school. They were great friends and not only did they share the same room but they also shared toys and dressed like one another.

Mary was timid and afraid of dogs so she didn't venture past the front gate until she was eight. Tina on the other hand wasn't afraid of anything and she used to chase dogs away. However, she had a curious habit of "romancing"; that is she often made a huge event out of some of the little things that happened to her.

Three years later, when Mary was five and Tina was three, another baby was born. This time my sister Grace Roche came to Athlone to help, as by now my mother had become nervous. Grace brought her son, Barry, with her; and so began the comings-and-goings of the Roches, which were to continue for many years. I can't remember where we all slept, but we had such great times together. I do remember one warm summer's night when Barry, Mary and Tina all got up and came down to the living room where it was cooler. When the milkman called early the next morning, he found the three children asleep on the floor under a bedspread. He walked right through them and they never even heard a sound. (We used to leave the key in the door in those days.)

On the evening I went into hospital to have the next baby, I waited until all the children were in bed. Martin and I walked slowly to the hospital. It was a lovely evening and I remember as Martin was leaving the hospital he said, "Don't think about any more names, call this baby after yourself."

We never dreamt we were going to have a boy but the very next morning a baby boy, of nine and a half pounds, came into the world. And who was on duty to oversee the event; none other than the redoubtable Nurse Broderick.

I was exhausted but I kept wondering how I'd get word to Martin about the happy event, as we didn't have a phone. Nurse Broderick asked me bluntly, "Well, how many boys have you now?" When I told her this was my first, she never said a word but went out to the hospital gate and stopped a girl who was passing and said, "Go to 47 Assumption Road and tell Martin McCabe he has a baby boy." Ever afterwards I knew Nurse Broderick's heart was in the right place.

I should mention that the baby was whisked off to the incubator shortly after he was born, as the medical staff considered he was somewhat "blue". I was in tears, but a few hours later he was brought back and I was able to hold him and see that he was all right. When Martin saw him, he held him in his arms and said, "Well, we can't call this one Edna". And then he asked, "Are you sure it's a boy?"

My mother went straight out and shouted to all the neighbours, "We have a boy." From then on she watched him all day long, sitting in a chair beside his pram and making sure the girls didn't touch him or wake him. I named our new baby "Martin" after his dad as I thought there could be no better name and I added "Matthew" in honour of my father.

Thirty-nine years after this happy event an army sergeant told me that Martin got a right "slagging" in the barracks about the birth of his first boy. It seems his fellow soldiers made a penis with putty, wrapped it in a big box and presented it to Martin with the words, "Well done!" Martin never told me that story; he was too nice! I certainly never saw his special presentation.

When Martin junior was just four months old, there was a germ going and he and ten other babies ended up in the hospital with pneumonia. Naturally we got a fright and we visited the hospital as often as possible. Martin always came with me but he only went in once, as he was so sad. He just sat on the steps outside the hospital, until I came out. It was strange reaction as he was so good at helping other people, curing sick animals and so on; he just couldn't look at his own son when he was in distress.

In any event Martin junior was soon out of danger and home again. For years I blamed myself for his illness because one morning, after his bath, I took him out to the garden to show him to my next-door neighbour. My mother said he caught cold then and this made me feel guilty. However, the doctor later assured me that a germ had caused his illness. We referred to him as "Junior" before he went to school. However, at school the nun said if his name is "Martin", let it be Martin.

In any event he turned out to be a quiet, serious little fellow who loved nothing better than playing with a box of toy cars. He used to say, "When I'm big I'll get a real car." The four girls loved him.

He used to follow Martin down the garden and he got to know the names of the different birds. The two Martins made a bird trap with which they used to catch birds. I thought this was a cruel pastime until one day I saw Senior put a little bird into Junior's hands. The two of them then watched as the bird flew away up in the sky. This interest developed until one day they built an aviary and they had over a hundred birds. They used to go to bird shows all over the place, even as far as England, and they won prizes everywhere. One day when Senior was away I tried to help Junior to catch a bird. I pulled the trap too soon and killed the bird. I don't know which of us was more upset. That was the end of my involvement with birds. In any case I was too with the house and the children.

Martin Senior loved children and our garden was always full of boys and girls as there was a swing in the yard and a special tree at the bottom of the garden, which the children loved to climb. Martin and Grace started this tree off in a jam jar before they planted it out. It became know as "Grace's Tree". Over the years we had rabbits, hamsters, goldfish and a budgie. The budgie used to sit on my head when the children wanted to see him fly. One day he took flight and flew out the door. Then Martin got a canary that used to sing his head off.

The two Martins used to watch the matches on TV, jumping around and shouting, "Yes!" when their side scored a goal. Then I started going to the school with Martin to see young Martin playing football. I could never see him on the field until they told me he was the goalkeeper. Later on I was so proud when he was appointed Patrol Leader and Scout of the Year. He was slowly following in his dad's footsteps. As a young leader he brought a scout troop to Buckmore Camp in Kent. About this time Martin Senior built a boat in the Barrack Hobby Room and then there were trips up the river and picnics on the banks of the Shannon. They were good years in our lives.

I forgot to mention that when the Scouts were in Buckmore Camp, Martin and I went along, and stayed in a mobile home nearby. It was one of those few very hot summers.

Now the girls were growing up and in turn they joined the Girl Guides and the Red Cross. They were very lucky to have Mrs Elsa Rouse as a Guide Leader. Like Martin, she was dedicated and a great role model for the young. She used to take them camping everywhere and the scout hall was never empty. You would find tents, rucksacks, poles, cans, etc. The scouts were for ever leaving thing into "47" because "Mr. Mac Cabe said it would be all right." I got to know so many boys and girls.

However, the scout and guide committees never got around me to join them. I was far too busy.

Still Mrs. Rouse paid me a great compliment. She said I was the "backbone of the organisation". She and Martin were great friends. When the girls were in their teens she sadly died, but the example and record she left still lives on. She will not be forgotten. Her example and that of Martin' brushed off on to all my children. "Loyalty, love, honour, truth, and to thine own self be true", was their motto. Such a high standard to follow, I used to think to myself, "Dear God don't let life let them down."

Despite all our ups and downs our kids were a joy to bring up and they had a lovely circle of friends. Martin Senior was the most content person I have ever met. He said that all he ever wanted was me, the family, his home and garden and, of course, his beloved scouts. When things were tough I asked him why he never got annoyed. He asked, "Annoyed like what?" I said, "Annoyed enough to throw a plate through the window". He couldn't stop laughing, then he give me a hug and said, "Remember we said we'd settle for what we have and do without the rest." And so that's the way our life continued. We were all happy.

Perhaps some of you family member will wonder why I decided write all this. Well, it has been therapy for me, especially as it gave me a chance to reflect on the most special person in my life. I know no one else will find so much happiness with such a nice person.