LONDON LIVES: Serving her time

Kilnaleck native Brian Boylan who has worked with marginalised sections of the immigrant Irish community for three decades in the north London boroughs of Camden and Islington has been deeply saddened by what he sees as the erosion of their identity. He fears that withouut meaningful intervention, many of these people will be forgotten. It's a tragic outcomein 2013, the year of The Gathering. In this, the second of our series on London Lives, former priest Brian speaks of his friendship with one such woman, Rose, from his home parish.

Brian encountered Rose after she had been diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumour. A friend had phoned him to ask if he knew of a Catholic care home to which she could be referred.

A native of South Cavan, she had in fact been referred by Social Services to a care home which had a daily visit from a Catholic chaplain. Brian made his first visit one week after she had been allocated a room in the care home.

'My friend had told me that she came from an area close to Kilnaleck and that she probably knew my grandparents,' recalls Brian. 'She was sitting with other residents in the common room when I arrived. She smiled, shook my hand and took me to the visitors’ room where we could talk in private.

'She was of slim build and was immaculately dressed and groomed. I introduced myself and told her where I came from. ‘I knew your grandmother’ she said.'

 

Growing up

Rose was an orphan. She had been fostered by a family near Kilnaleck where she was well cared for and treated as one of the family. She regarded the children of her foster parents as her brothers and sisters. She was aware, however, that being an orphan carried a certain stigma in the Ireland of that time. She was 'illegitimate' she said.

In addition, Rose had a facial disfigurement which made her regard herself as ugly Brian explained.

'She believed people stared at her in a judgemental fashion because of it. She felt they were talking about her behind her back. She thought that God had somehow put a curse on her because of her illegitimacy. She reflected elements of the mentality that persisted in rural Ireland at that time of her growing up.'

Attending school in Kilnaleck, and while she regarded herself as different, Rose felt protected by the foster family she lived with. Aged 14 she finished her schooling and began to ‘serve her time’ with a local seamstress, an apprenticeship in today’s terminology. There was no pay.

Older now, Rose was becoming more acutely aware of herself and of how people regarded her. Her facial disfigurement became more significant as she entered young womanhood. She felt alienated and ashamed of herself internally and externally.

'Perhaps, it was because of her growing discomfort with herself in the community that she emmigrated to England at the age of 16,' considers Brian. 'She stayed with relatives of her foster parents and was helped find a job in a local factory. She packed boxes and did other menial tasks. After a time she found her own accommodation.'

In England a doctor referred Rose to a hospital consultant for an examination of her facial disfigurement. Her left eye protruded and was out of balance with the rest of her face. The operation that followed was a success and considerably improved her appearance. She felt great and for the first time in her life she began to socialise, going to Irish dances and gatherings. She changed her job, from factory to department store - a move up the social ladder at the time.

Soon after Rose met a nice Irishman, and after a lengthy courtship they married in London.

'They lived together for 30 years, until his death from cancer,' says Brian. 'The marriage was never consummated she informed me. I wondered why she revealed this and shared this very personal piece of information with me. Possibly, she did not want me to think that she was barren, as they had no children, and that whatever curse afflicted her, it did not extend to her fertility. But they needed each other and they stayed together and supported each other.'

 

Searching for family

During her widow years, Rose requested information from social services in Ireland about her parentage. Through this piecing of information, the story of her origins began to emerge.

'Both her parents worked in the same hospital,' explains Brian. 'Her father was a young doctor, and her mother a nurse. Rose was conceived after a Christmas party in the staff quarters of the hospital.

Her father subsequently emmigrated to a far distant country to practice his profession there. He died in a car accident a few years later.

'The mother requested that Rose be placed in an orphanage, shortly after giving birth to her. Any hope of her keeping her baby ended when she saw the facial disfigurement. She was being punished for her sin. No contact was ever made between Rose and her mother.

'All these details of her life began to emerge as our friendship grew and strengthened. I told her she was unfortunate to be born at a sad and difficult time in Ireland.'

 

Apologies

Brian said the Kilnaleck that Rose knew no longer existed. Attitudes had changed, and a more compassionate and understanding ethos prevailed. If she were there now, she would be accepted and welcomed and respected.

'‘Are you sure’, she asked. I said that I represented the people she once knew and among whom she once lived. I said I was sorry for the way she was treated and regarded in my community. I apologised to her.

'That apologetic stance set the tone for my subsequent visits. Rose was being effectively asked to forgive and to achieve a degree of reconciliation in our wounded heart. I doubt if her forgiveness had ever been requested before. I got the impression that for most of her life she had to apologise for her very existence.'

Brian was with Rose the day before she died. Her body was taken to Ireland and she was buried next to her husband. Brian travelled to Dublin and borrowed his sister’s car to drive the 70 miles to where the funeral Mass was being celebrated.

There were about 15 mourners in the church, mostly relatives of Rose’s husband. The priest had never met Rose and asked Brian to say something by way of a life story or eulogy.

'I said a few words to express my shame at how Rose had been treated. I apologised for the shame she had been made to feel and for the pain caused to an innocent child.'

Later after the burial, as Brian prepared to drive away, an old man approached and knocked on the car window. He lowered the window and the old man bent down and said: 'That needed to be said', referring to Brian’s apology. The man then turned away and shuffled off without another word.

'I reflected that Rose’s life had been one of serving time. She served time in the orphanage, with her foster family, with the seamstress, in a joyless marriage and finally in a care home. Death ended her serving of time in her own prison of society’s attitudes.'