Nothing But Bad Times: Chapter Thirteen, Part Two
As February broke, the cold snappy air was nothing seen since December, that cold, cold December. Things had settled in 2 Nimmo's Row's and Barney had moved back into his own house in Stevenston Street. But he kept a close eye on his mum and visited every day. Nellie had to take her children back down to Corby to see Harry, and was on standby in case anything did happen and she was needed. For the next three weeks Mary Ann lay in bed and did not move. She had developed soars and although Barney did all he could to keep her active, he could not. Other forces were against him, after all she was dying. She would not recover from this. On February 8 1941, her condition deteriorated, Her eyes became weakened, and her right side was now completely limp. Mary Ann also had heart disease, only established after death of course. This had also weakened her severely. She was now starting to fade away.
Later that day, about 2pm, Barney came to see her with his daughter Agnes. She hugged her granny, she knew what was going on. “I'll miss you Granny”. By now Mary Ann was confused, and the end was very near. She had misunderstood Agnes. “I...love you too...hen”, she whispered, groggy voiced and weary. As Barney tried to speak to his mum, she simply turned her head and looked at him. She lifted her left hand, and it flopped down beside her again. She was too weak to move. Her strength had gone.
Agnes sat on Barney's lap and all of a sudden Mary Ann let out a hard sigh. This continued for a while and it soon became clear she was losing her breath. Agnes stood up and moved over to her granny, peered over her bed and said “Granny, where will the birds go?”, referring to the starlings she kept outside. Mary Ann smiled briefly, something which she must have missed a lot during her days on this earth. She laughed briefly, although in much discomfort. Barney took his daughter and told her to run home to get her dinner. “Tell mammy that granny says bye bye”. Cissie would have known that when Agnes delivered this message, Mary Ann had passed away. She had lost her father just weeks before in January, and after she told Mary Ann her father had died, she replied thus: “You know what hen, I won't be long after him”. To know you are dying and to keep the strength she did, is a lesson and I think an inspiration to us all.
Alone now with his mother, Barney saw his daughter away down the row and paced over to the bed. His mother looked him as he leant over her, and he kissed her head. She had a tissue in her paralysed hand covered in blood. My gran says that because of her stroke Mary Ann's hand was fixed in a clutched position, and her fingernails would often penetrate her skin, so Barney put a tissue in her hand to keep her from hurting herself. Breathing very heavily, Mary Ann grumbled. She was trying to speak to him, but she could hardly put a sentence together. “Barney” she said, and closed her eyes. The panting stopped, and Mary Ann stopped breathing. “Mum” he said, panicking. He got no answer, but then the panting started again. She was still hanging on. If I was Barney, I would have been very moved. I would have been watching the strongest person I knew, lose the resilience that had defined her entire life.
Evening drew close now and Barney sat by the fire in 2 Nimmo's Row's, trying to keep his mother warm. He placed a warming pan underneath her sheets, knowing that his mother would be dead before it got cold, but he wanted to make her passing as comfortable as possible. Mary Ann let out a groan again and as Barney approached her and held her, she uttered her last word. “Bernard”.
At 4.45 that Saturday evening, the eighth day of February 1941, Mary Ann gave up her fight, and slipped peacefully into unconsciousness. Soon afterwards in the company of her only surviving son, she passed away in her home of thirty four years. It was thirty three years to the day since the death of her youngest child, Catherine Hughes. For Nellie, she had lost two of her baby sons and her mother in the space of eight months. Mary Ann was the second eldest of her siblings, and the penultimate child of Bernard Owens and Eliza Fox to pass away. Her brother Joseph outlived her by fourteen months, dying on April 23 1942 in Camlachie, Glasgow.
Mary Ann was buried in St Patrick's Cemetery, New Stevenston, on February 10. Nellie came up from Corby that same day and although she missed the burial, she visited her grave and paid her own respects to her mother, who in her darkest hour, had been her beacon of hope. The Owens generation had gone. Her sister's widowers, James Donnachie and James Carey, both died shortly after the closure of the Second World War. Joseph Owen's widow, Rose McGinty, was the very last to die. She died in 1954. But the story doesn't end here...
Copyright © Matthew Reay, 2008
