Introduction
I had a big brother who was on this Earth for seventeen years, 10 months and 12 days. He may be just a 'body number' on the inquest list; but to us, he was the first born, a grandson, a big brother, a nephew, a cousin, and a loyal friend to those who knew him. And his name is George.
Background
George was very much a homebody; quiet, reserved and not one for going out much- just like our dad. He was much adored by me, being my best friend and closest in age (a mere 2 ½ years apart), and by our younger siblings (who were 7, 5 and 3 in 1981) who didn’t get the chance to make many memories if any.
He was a huge science fiction fan and was always drawing, trying to replicate the spaceships from the comics and films of Star Wars, Star Trek, War of the Worlds among others. We still have many of his notebooks of these drawings.
George was only starting out on life’s journey as an adult. He had gone as far as Leaving Cert in St Joseph’s CBS Fairview and had no interest in college, so got himself a part-time job out in the St Laurence Hotel in Howth, working with children which he loved; and as a family, we’d head there an odd Sunday to indulge in the carvery dinner and get extra special ‘desserts’ because we knew ‘the staff’.
Then he managed to snag himself a job working in Superquinn in Northside Shopping Centre, walking distance from home and no shifts past 2100. He loved working there and made some lovely friends, who encouraged him to come out of his ‘shell’ and start to socialise.
Sadly, the first dance he ever went to was also to be his last.
Stardust Fire
My memories over the years have faded to a point where whenever I try to remember, all that comes to mind is George getting ready for the dance, my mam ironing his shirt, him drying his ‘afro’ hairstyle, and me critiquing his outfit and telling him no girl would ask him to dance dressed like he was. Then, heading to bed with not a care in the world. Only to be woken by utter chaos… heading off with my dad and uncles to collect dental records and going into the Coroner’s courtroom to identify a clear plastic bag of clothes. The same outfit (what was left of it) I had mocked just a few hours before. Then over to the canteen in Busarus to wait for the dental records to be compared.
Since then
Being a shy and private fifteen-year-old at the time, the trauma I felt caused me to withdraw even further into myself and for a solid 10 years I couldn’t be around people if they started talking about George. So maybe I blocked my memories as a self-preservation tactic. But that is not to say that I and we do not think about him and miss him every single day.
I wonder how very different all our lives would be if he were still here. What career path would he have taken, would he have married, had kids, stayed in Ireland or lived abroad…
When meeting new people, the question if I am the eldest always brings out the familiar furrow on my forehead and I never fail to ponder how to answer this question. What to say, I wonder
silently. I am or I’m not – yes, or no? Sadly, I was thrust into that unwanted position of ‘eldest’ which was never meant to be my birth right.
Conclusion
There is not closure to grief, just a beginning, a middle and the rest of your life. The new ‘normal’ is having tears waiting behind every smile because you realise someone important is missing from all those important events in our family’s life.
Two things in life change you as a person and you are never the same: love and grief.
