Bridget Lindsay (Nee Mullarkey)

Bridget Lindsay (Nee Mullarkey),  Mount Jubilee, Bangor Erris

The death took place recently of Bridget Lindsay (nee Mullarkey), of Mount Jubilee, Bangor Erris. She was in her 91st year.

Bridget was well-known and respected in the community for her charity, for her kindness to all who encountered her and as a diligent worker who, along with her late husband, Pat, strove to rear their family in hard times and succeeded admirably.

A kind and helpful neighbour, she was a devout Catholic who frequented her church and sacraments up until a short time before her death.

Predeceased by her husband, Pat, and her son, PJ, she is sadly mourned by her sons, John, Michael and Eamon; daughters, Noreen, Kathleen, Pauline, Annie Mai, Theresa and Rosaleen; sons-in-law and daughters-in-law; brother-in-law; nephews and nieces; grandchildren and great-grand-children; relatives and many friends.

Her remains were removed from her residence to Geesala Church, and following Requiem Mass she was laid to rest in Geesala cemetery.

Bridgie is fondly remembered in the form of this poem, composed by her grandchildren, who cared so much down the years on their many visits to her home in Mount Jubilee for their ‘Nanny Moon’:

Today we say our last goodbyes,

To Nan who was so wonderful in all our eyes,

None of us can believe that she has died,

Our supergran with whom we laughed and cried.

Plenty of memories we all have to share,

One of which is Nan sitting in her chair,

With salmon and potatoes out on the cooker,

And Nan inside glued watching the snooker.

Oh, Steve Davis she didn’t like to watch play,

But if it was Jimmy White shed tell you,

“Get out of the way.”

Then when the dinner was ready and on the table,

You’d grab a chair and sit as fast as you were able.

During the summer if you walked through the door,

All you’d hear is Davina say ‘you’re live on Channel 4’,

It was then we knew our addicted grandmother,

Was kicking back to watch another episode of big brother.

Up the boisin we all used to scram,

To pick fresh blackberries for Nan’s special jam,

And when wed return our feet would ache,

Only to find Nan had baked a fresh current cake.

We’d come in from play and give a big sigh,

And strip our damp clothes for Nan to dry,

She’d put them over the range to get some heat,

Which was burning brightly filled with turf and peat.

Another memory is going to Sarah’s for spring water,

And didn’t matter if you were son or daughter,

With the red bucket we’d go over the road,

Two of us swinging it back and fro,

Running around doing not what we should,

Mucky and dirty, always up to no good,

Skipping through the grass that came up to our knees,

Then we’d hear a roar from Nan “come down out of those trees.”

On a Tuesday afternoon we’d eagerly wait,

Jumping over the roses getting Nan in a state,

So full of energy waiting for our treats,

We just couldn’t wait to see Langan’s van full of sweets.

We remember late nights up past 12 we stayed,

Smiling away watching Nan as her honer she played,

Plenty of hot toddy’s them nights we drank,

And for those good memories it’s Nan we thank.

Many years she had, nearly ninty one,

Which were filled with lots of laughter and fun,

With her thirty-five grandchildren she minded us all,

Even though sometimes we probably drove her up the wall;

She reared a big family made up of eleven,

But now she’s gone to mind PJ and Jonathan in heaven.

And even though she has had friends that were many,

Were sure there’s one waiting for her, that’s her friend Annie.

We now say goodbye to our Nana Moon,

We love you always and will see you soon.