Maria, Linda, Michael, Peter, Family & Friends; I suppose what we meet at these times is the reality. We are remembered how life is final and that the embrace of it when we have it should be reminded. Generations are forgotten, and the world they had. I know when I think of Stephen it is in the present time, and the time when he would be at Peggy’s or up in the sugar house past Harrys road and he was all confident and kind and handsome. It’s important that at the beginning of the life we have known too that it began a sacrifice of no choice. Elizabeth and Maggie and Roseellen Breen came into the world a long time ago. Very different times. I was only told this week from my Ma that Roseellen was taken by the Morgans’ up to Lisburn as a very young child. And so it began here for her, and for all of you. It began this journey for Stephen that we can reflect on today. Granny White was born in the eighteen-something’s. I mean in this age of Apple and the Wars and present mMedia, those age-old times look mechanical – a seemingly repressive, unaccountable world. If a simpler one. Maybe things were different up north, maybe more progressive, better structured. I don’t know about this, In truth we can’t have access to know , none of us. Not really. Roseellen is a lovely name. To me she always looked tough in the photographs. Always looked like a woman who had with the photo , a break from something. It’s good to stay in touch. The crossings in life can come eerie sometimes. There’s a photo of Elizabeth and Roseellen taken in Carlingford when the railroad ran. I think it’s remarkable the coincidence. They stood for the photo inside the railroad wall and where they stood now there’s a cherry tree. It’s in the front Garden of Mam’s house. I’m glad I took a notion to call up to Stephen few months ago. I’ll miss him not being able to call up to but I’ll know the same weather if it comes when I’m riding the bike any Sunday and I’ll think of him. I’m glad he saw the bike, and that’s why I’m planning on taking it to the service. Pardon the noise and the way it is but everyone has a therapy. I can’t say what Stephen’s was. But one last day with Maria, one last day of rugby and one last day with friends is what can’t be wrote. Lord rest.

sean duffy