Chickens Coming Home
When I was seven years old, I did a bad thing. I defied authority in school and opened a door I was told not to go near. I received a series of punishments for this which had a bad effect on me. I quickly became a burden on my parents, who had fallen on hard times around the same time due to our dairy herd being decimated by disease. They had managed to build a new house before this happened and were rightly proud of it and the comfort it provided - running water and everything. One of the great joys of my life was to look after them when they were no longer fully able to look after themselves. They stayed living in their home, a place where they were almost always happy. My mother went into a coma, isolated and extremely distressed (the night nurse's report doesn't make for pleasant reading), on a Covid ward in Mullingar during Christmas 2020. She died a day later. My father's death was not much more natural. Though I had become very close to both of them, they'd h...