Absence is amplified at Christmas

In his report to the recent county convention, Cavan county board secretary Martin Cahill sounded a poignant note.

“2025,” he wrote, “was most definitely our ‘Annus Horibilis’ when it came to bereavements. Over the course of the year we lost four vice-presidents and a former county secretary in addition to a number of club officials and mentors.

“Our GAA games give us many happy days and great memories, however in the midst of such great occasions there is always the contrasting emotions when we have to say goodbye to a loved one, to a club stalwart or a promising young player.”

Christmas is an extraordinary time of the year, in the truest sense of the word, but also, in many ways, the most habitual. Most people have a routine around “the days of Christmas” and that is broken when someone is missing, especially in the first year or years. I remember the first year after my grandfather passed away and it was oddly disconcerting; there was a void on those days, which was more apparent than in the ordinary run of things.

Granda’s favourite footballer, as it happened, was Charlie Gallagher; after Charlie retired, Granda stopped attending matches. Charlie was born on Christmas Day, 1937; he would have been 88 this year had he lived to see it. I always thought his birthday was quite apt; he was sprinkled with stardust from day one.

I thought of Charlie first when his grandson of the same name scored a goal for St Aidan’s, Cootehill, in the recent Ulster Schools final; there is a pleasing symmetry to that and I’m sure football followers of a certain vintage recognised it – and it was an early Christmas present for the young lads from the local Celtics club and surrounding clubs like Drumgoon, Kill Shamrocks and so on, too.

In 2018 and early 2019, when I was researching the biography of Charlie, I conducted dozens of interviews with old teammates, opponents and people who knew him all around the country. That’s not so long ago but Cahill’s report to convention got me thinking about that, too, and how quite a few of those I spoke to have passed on in the interim.

Ever since I first started researching Charlie, I have always remembered him on his birthday at Christmas - and that is the case even moreso this year with the very recent loss of some of those who helped me tell his story at the time. I won’t list them all – I don’t want to omit anyone - but I’d like to recall them all the same, those who assisted me with the book and are no longer with us.

The most recent, as I write, was Tom Lynch, who I wrote about last week. Another was Vincent Pilkington from Cootehill, the world record-holder for turkey-plucking and a man who adored Charlie and is immortalised in a photo of his receiving the Anglo-Celt Cup.

There was Mickey McPhilips from Newtownbutler, our cousin, who had a treasure trove of photographs and videos; he passed away tragically, before his time.

Msgr Iggy McQuillan, another Newtown man and former Fermanagh footballer who I met at his home in Derry. I sat down with Seamus Hoare, the former Donegal and Ulster goalkeeper, at his home in Kildare, where he showed me his scrapbooks of memories.

Miceál Greenan could not have been more helpful, visiting our offices with a folder of clippings. The gentleman Frankie Kennedy I met in Drumlane, the rambunctious Steve Duggan, who I shot the breeze with with in his bar on 2nd Avenue in Manhattan. Sean Foy, the barber in Cootehill, coiffured hair, a brisk trade in one-liners and a crystal-clear memory stretching back to the 1950s and dressing-room arguments and bar-room wisecracks, was another I interviewed.

Foy told me that Tony Morris “was the finest cut of a man ever sat in my chair”. I met Tony at his home in Navan and he shared stories and photographs. Larry McCluskey, who wrote a column on these pages, spoke evocatively about Charlie and helped me a lot, too.

All of these men, full of life when I met them in recent years, are now gone, sadly. It’s sobering to think about but then, most lived long lives and achieved much.

At convention, Cahill also mourned the passing of Brendan Keaney, the former chairman of Cavan county board and the head man during the mid-1990s senior football resurgence, as well as Packie Smith from Ballymachugh and Oliver Galligan, former Ulster GAA President who had been in rude health.

“In August when we heard that Oliver Galligan was unwell, we were all flabbergasted,” stated Cahill.

“You only ever saw Oliver with a mischievous smile and devilment in his eye, notwithstanding this he was an accomplished administrator with whom I worked closely in the early days of Games Development in our county. It’s still hard to believe that we won’t see him in the back of the stand in Kingspan Breffni again.”

And, of course, the last surviving All-Ireland SFC medallist from Cavan, Paddy Carolan, passed on in this year, too, closing in, as he was, on the century.

In his report, Cahill paid tribute to the late Leon Briody, who, he said, “touched many, many hearts and left a lasting legacy”.

So, for all that it’s a joyful time, with families re-uniting, travellers returning, religious festivities, the delight of Santy, Christmas can be sad for many, too, especially those who have been bereaved in the previous 12 months.

This time of year, the sense of loss is amplified; Christmas insists on joy and sometimes that is hard to find – but that’s okay, too. Time is a healer and it's important to remember those who have gone before us around now.

Best wishes of the season to all of our readers, near and far. May your Christmas be healthy and happy and thank you sincerely for your support in 2025.