Jeremiah O'Callaghan

On Friday, we had gone back to Ovens to gauge the time it would take to drive back out of the city to St. John the Baptist to attend Sunday Mass at the church that Maurice had known as a child. When we arrived, there was a woman dusting and getting the church ready for weekend services. She introduced herself as Mary O’Callaghan and said she was aware of our visit the previous day and had been looking forward to meeting us. She explained that she was related by marriage, being the second wife of Donal, son of Jeremiah O’Callaghan, Maurice’s brother. Maurice had always claimed to be one of nine children, but, when we had gotten the baptismal records from Fr. Keating, only six baptisms were recorded. We have learned that Daniel, Maurice’s father, was previously married, but his wife had died. He had had children from this previous marriage; only two baptisms were recorded, however - both males. So Maurice had two older step-brothers, in addition to one brother and four sisters from the union of Daniel and Catherine O’Leary.

Mary hoped we’d be returning on Sunday and encouraged us to attend Mass at half eleven when she’d be serving as sacristan. Sure enough, we returned at the appointed hour, enjoyed the Mass celebrated by Fr. Keating (so reminiscent of sharing Mass with our beloved Monsignor Nugent), and were invited back to Mary’s house for a well-planned lunch. At this time, we met her sons, Donal and Neal, and Donal’s wife and two boys, Donal and Jack - the very expression of the flower of Irish boyhood. Mary has two daughters as well, the one who lives next door works the night shift as a nurse and was sleeping, the other lives in Australia, works in the hotel business and has traveled the world.

Lunch was delightful - home-baked ham, fresh brown bread, a salad from her garden, sliced hard-boiled eggs, and pickled beet salad. I mustn’t forget the homemade raspberry jam. All topped off by a wonderful home baked cake with an endless supply of fresh-brewed tea.

It was a time to ask questions and Mary was never at a loss. She had thoroughly researched the family, and her husband, who died in 2003, was the custodian of the history of the family. She also had a wonderful picture of Jeremiah with his son, Donal (Mary’s husband). Donal had a brother and a sister: Mary (called Mae), and Christy, the last surviving male child who currently lives in London. Mae, who died a few years ago, favored Mom immensely; Mary immediately remarked on the resemblance. Mom also felt that Jeremiah looked so very much like her own dad.

After we had finished our gracious lunch and our lengthy conversation, Mary took us to Kilcrea, a former Franciscan friary that had been founded in 1465. It was an expansive and beautiful derelict in a serene and peaceful pastoral setting. You see the area in the pictures above. Mary walked us around and explained the different areas of the abbey. She then pointed out the gravestones of her husband Donal, Mom’s first cousin, and Jeremiah, Mom’s uncle/Maurice’s brother.

All of these experiences have been very emotional for Mom. She has greeted them with a mixture of joy and tears. It seems to her, in some ways, a miracle to have met these people and had the experience of breathing this air and trodding this earth. It has caused her to wonder what her father would think, and has pulled powerful memories of him, his stories, and his life as a young man in a far distant place and time. It would not be a mischaracterization to say that Mom has been thrilled by the experience.

Many pictures this time - of Mary, Donal (left), and Neal (right); of Kilcrea and the surrounding countryside; of Fr. Paddy Keating; of the stained glass from Maurice’s time and of the gravestone of his priest; and finally, the stone of Mom’s uncle, Jeremiah, the older brother for whom “there was room to be a carpenter“.

This experience has been a great and unanticipated blessing; we will cherish this part of the trip forever, and will remember this time through Mom’s eyes.