Sister Brigid R.I.P.

Sister Brigid in our original Josephite habit (SSJ Tasmanian files)

Our Irish Sister Brigid was the only one wiling to risk  joining me in my round Tasmania car journey to celebrate my Silver Jubilee.  So many adventures we had!

St Patrick

Many long years later, I was able to make it up to her.

Brigid was  Irish to the core. Everything in her possession, if humanly possible, must be green.

Her greatest loves were St Patrick and  shamrocks;  Irish Jigs and Reels;  and the Irish tenors, John McCormack and  Patrick O’Hagan.

When I called  to visit her in the hospital,  I found her  very sick, quite  disturbed, as she twisted and turned restlessly in her bed.

Suddenly, I launched into my one bit of Gaelic.

It was the Sign of the Cross which my father had taught me when I was a child.

The Irish sisters had also coached me to say  the Hail Mary in Gaelic.

Sr Brigid in later years, always with her smiling Iirish eyes. (SSJ Tasmanian Archives)

It was when I began to speak  the language of her native race that the dying Sister Brigid let go of all her anguish.

And, then, I sang some of her favourite Irish songs.

But it was not until I was singing The Soldiers’ Song, the Irish National Anthem, that she stopped breathing and, with a gentle smile on her face, died.

Brigid died happily, Irish songs accompanying her to Heaven (Martin Nolan, OSA)

2 Responses to Sister Brigid R.I.P.

  1. Michael says:

    I too will miss her bright, sparkling smile and lively demeanor. I think God threw away the mould he used to create Brigid. Definitely one of a kind. Enjoy your reward.

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