Family Portraits

by JoAnn Aitken

  "June 1 is a Sunday, and Eddie suggested that we take her to Lee’s in Mount Hope the day before her birthday. She likes it there and hasn’t been in a long while. He said we could book a room and have everybody there to surprise her. Just the immediate family plus Finn and Molly, of course.

  “What do you think about that?”

  “I think it sounds really nice. Eddie is the best, you know.”

  “I am well aware – and extremely grateful. I’ll tell him yes and start communicating with everyone. I think it should work out well. Here’s hoping there’s no problem with Theresa and Gordie.”

  Everyone could make it, and Katherine and Eddie bullied Barbara into coming out for a change and stop being an old grouch. Barbara sort of took pride in being a grouch, but she didn’t want to be an old one. And she did enjoy the Chinese food at Lee’s.

  There were twenty-nine guests, including grandchildren and great-grandchildren to surprise her. During the cocktail time, Barbara looked around the room and felt quite touched.

  Her son David was arriving late, having had to finish something at work. When he came through the door, he clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention. “And here is Mother’s special birthday surprise,” he announced. His brother Nicholas was with him.

  Nicholas hadn’t seen his mother since September 1974, almost thirty-four years ago. He was shocked by her appearance. Her pain and suffering were etched on her face.

  He flashed back on their happy family times: Barbara sitting on Michael’s lap singing You Are My Sunshine, the crochet tournaments when Grandpa always cheated, volleyball in the big pool, Barbara’s loving kisses and hugs when someone got an “ouchy.” That was what he wanted to remember.

  “Momma,” he said and took her in his arms. Barbara was as white as a sheet, and Eddie and Kathy stood close on each side. “Where have you been, boy?” she asked shakily. “You’re almost late for dinner.”

  It was a rowdy good time. “When’s everybody going to start crying?” Liam whispered to Alex.

  “It could have happened when Uncle Nicholas got here, but Gran don’t stand for no nonsense,” his brother figured.

  Late that night, after everyone had gone to bed at Maple Lane, Nicholas moved quietly through the halls and up to the third floor. Emma was sitting on her bed wearing a long sleeved white nightgown. Her hair was down. The drapes were open and the room was bright with moonlight. She looked like an angel.

  “I knew you’d come,” she said.

  “Em… I…it…” he stammered. “Thirty-four years without you. I longed for you every day. I didn’t come because I had promised God,” he said.

  “I know,” she said. “I’m sorry your wife died.”

  "She was a good person, Em. I married her because I was so lonely and I missed you so much. She knew the whole time that I didn’t love her, but she loved me anyway.

  “Our sons are fine boys, but they hated the ranch and joined the armed forces. One’s in Halifax and the other in Vancouver, so I am all alone again.”

  “My boys are good too. It’s quite a miracle considering everything. Billy is my gift from heaven. I’m so lucky to have him near.”

  “Emmy, I think we’ve suffered enough. All of us. I want you to come home and live with me.”

  “How can we do that, Nicky?”

  “We’ll just say that you are coming for a holiday, and then you will decide to stay…if you want to.”

  “How can we explain our relationship to people?”

  “In public, you will be my loved and trusted sister, my housekeeper, and hostess. In private, you will be my other half.”

  “What about God?”

  “I’ve kept my promise to God for thirty-four years. I’ll not live the rest of my life without you by my side.”

  “I’m afraid, Nicky.”

  “No, you’re not, and you’ll never be afraid again.”

  Everyone was happy to see Emma go home with Nicholas for a stay on the ranch. Unfortunately, Barbara was now left alone which was not a good thing.

  Her children had to make an effort, and they did. Gabriel, not surprisingly, was her faithful comrade. Most afternoons he would have the school bus drop him off at Maple Lane for a visit.

  There was always something to do. Sometimes they would go for a walk or they would have tea. They liked to go down to Cousin Todd’s for a chat and to see the horses. Holiday season meant that presents had to be wrapped, and Gabriel would help bring decorations out of storage so they could plan for the open house.

  These activities kept Barbara sober, and the whole family was grateful. Barbara actually flourished and ventured out in her car to go to Chamber of Commerce meetings and do chores. Of course, most times she drove Gabriel home and would often stay for dinner at Billy’s. Billy was her boy, and Kim had been her best friend for years.

  The other family members, Finn and Molly too, would come around on the weekends, and she flew to Antigonish a couple of times. She actually thought a number of times that she was glad she hadn’t died with Michael in 1973.

  As Thanksgiving 2010 approached, Barbara and Gabriel were planning her Thanksgiving family dinner. Gabriel was in the Arts Club at school and planned on making a centerpiece that he could submit as a project and use on the dinner table for the holiday.

  Gabriel knew where to find the very best leaves, and he and Barbara went out to forage at the old Presbyterian Church. They got loads of beautiful maple leaves and ran into the Pastor. He and Gabriel were great friends, and he got to hear all about the project.

  He made some helpful suggestions, and Gabriel went home to get started. “Keep me updated,” Reverend Morwood called as Gabriel and Barbara walked away hand in hand.

  Gallagher, Gabriel Finnegan

  Suddenly, early Sunday, October 3, 2010, Gabriel Finnegan, “almost ten” years old, slipped away to reunite with the other angels. He leaves behind his heartbroken family.

  Precious child of Gordon and Theresa Gallagher. Deeply loved by William Campbell Sheehan and Kimberly Scott (his second parents). Cherished grandson and great-grandson of Finnegan and Mary Margaret Gallagher and Barbara Campbell.

  Adored brother of Mary Margaret, Michael-Gordon, Joy and Sean Gallagher and Alexander and William Sheehan.

  Beloved nephew and great-nephew of Patrick and Linda Gallagher, Dennis and Sharon Gallagher, Shannon Gallagher and Philip Andrews, Erin Gallagher, and his special companion Mary Francis Gallagher; David and Susan Campbell, Nicholas Campbell, Emmalise Sheehan, and Katherine Campbell (Edward Gascoyne)

  Gabriel was a remarkable little boy, loved by everyone who met him from the time of his birth. He was happy in Grade Four at Lake Avenue Elementary School where he was a member of the Arts Club and sang in the choir. Donations to the School in his memory would be greatly appreciated. A gathering to remember Gabriel will be held at 1:00 p.m. on Thursday, October 7 at St. Paul’s Presbyterian Church in Dunnville.

  Good afternoon, friends. Thank you for coming to join together to remember Gabriel. I am his uncle, Dennis Gallagher.

  My wife is skeptical that I can do this. But I know I can. I can feel Gabriel’s tiny hand in mine, and I will prevail.

  Gabriel was a wise man disguised as a little boy. He had memories that stretched far into the past and visions of the future that were difficult for the rest of us to understand. My father, his beloved Gampa, believed that was because he was Irish, but so are we all. Gabriel was a seer.

  He was precociously verbal, speaking as an adult at a very early age. Sometimes it was startling, other times hilarious. The pictures in his head were simple yet multi-layered. I would ask him philosophical questions just to be dazzled by his responses.

  When his second sister was born, his parents asked him to suggest a name. He promptly replied, “Kitten Flower.” The tiny girl was the size of a kitten and looked like a beautiful flower, so his response was perfect. To his parents’ credit, that child’s name is Barbara Joy Kitten Flower Gallagher.

&
nbsp; When his baby brother arrived, Gordie and Theresa asked him about their choice of Sean Dennis, which is my name in reverse. Gabriel approved and said that name sounded very mature. I was proud because maturity is my eternal quest. Just ask my wife.

  He was indiscriminately affectionate. Every occasion was a love fest. Everyone felt special after a kiss and hug from that busy little boy. He once told me that grumpy people just need more hugs. I’ve seen it work, and I urge you to remember.

  Oh, for just one more hug from our beloved Gabriel.

  Ladies and gentlemen: I am Edward Gascoyne. My wife is Katherine Campbell, which makes me great-uncle to our Gabriel.

  I live in Vancouver and, unfortunately, do not spend as much time in Ontario as I should. However, I knew Gabriel well. We were great friends and enjoyed many a confidential conversation.

  He was a young man who found many diverse things to be interesting. He liked to have me explain international politics to him, and he really enjoyed listening to me speak French. He thought it was cool that I call my wife “Kat.” I think that was connected to his enormous love of animals, all living creatures, in fact.

  I remember his inadvertently terrifying his sister, the gentle Molly, with a truly horrible spider he had found in the rocks up at South Cayuga. He just wanted to explain the amazing qualities of arachnids to her. Although I am not a fan, he talked to me and convinced me to let it walk on my arm. I don’t want to do that again, but his knowledge impressed me as did his salesmanship abilities.

  Afterward, I thought I should remember this incident and get him into sales in my corporation. But, alas, I recognized that he would probably give everything away to anyone whose personal story touched him. His heart was that big.

  The last couple of days, I have walked about the town, talking to people about Gabriel. The response was universal: his generous spirit and bright curiosity about everything made him loved by everyone who met him.

  I asked my wife, who is a very wise woman, how this could be. She looked at me and said simply, “He was an angel.” I cannot dispute that. And I find it comforting because it makes me believe that he is here with us now and will be as long as we live.

  A bientot, Gabriel. Nous t’aimons.

  Good afternoon. I am Jennifer McCready, and I teach Grade Four at Lake Avenue Elementary School. I was Gabriel’s homeroom teacher this year, but I met him last year when he joined the choir. He loved the choir and gave it his all. He inspired the other members and made each practice a lot of fun.

  My outstanding memory of Gabriel is of his kindness. Early in September, I was very depressed when I came to school one day, but I put on my cheeriest professional face.

  When we were alone, Gabriel asked me why I was sad, and I told him that my cat had died the previous day. He listened quietly and gave me a hug. Later, in the afternoon, I found a sympathy card on my chair. Gabriel had made it on his lunch hour.

  That little boy showed me more kindness and empathy than my grown-up friends did, and I loved him for it.

  His friends in the choir and I would like to honor him now with one of his favorite songs. We practiced this one really hard for the Spring Festival, but Gabriel loved it so much that he still asked to sing it on a regular basis, although the season had changed.

  Ladies and gentlemen, please remember our good friend as you listen to When the Red, Red Robin Comes Bob Bob Bobbin’ Along.

  Oh, no, thought Kim, not The Red, Red Robin. She had heard the song a hundred times: Gabriel’s pure soprano, Billy’s bass, Molly’s chirping and M-G’s croaking. The song brought out the worst in Alex and Liam who added their sotto voce smutty lyrics, invariably causing Billy to make them run giggling from the room.

  She snuck a peek down the pew at Billy who looked very grim. Alex and Liam were hanging their heads in shame. As well they should.

  The dear little choir members sang with gusto, although it must have been hard. And everyone got through it.

  You all know me, my friends. I am Ben Morwood, Pastor of this lovely church. Welcome to this blessed occasion.

  Our dear Gabriel was not a member of our congregation, but he came to visit me regularly. He loved everything about the church – its classic architecture and its beautiful interior. He was particularly fascinated by the old gravestones of our early parishioners and would sit on the bench under the giant chestnut tree and commune with the departed.

  I don’t know exactly the nature of those conversations, but he did tell me that they were very happy to have such a wonderful resting place. I believed him. There just didn’t seem to be any reason not to.

  The last time I saw Gabriel was last Saturday. He was with his grandmother, Barbara, and they were collecting maple leaves for a Thanksgiving centerpiece he was creating. The summer weather had been such that the leaves were truly gorgeous, flawless, bright red beauties.

  Gabriel was uncertain about the direction the project should take, and I suggested that if he worked with some white button chrysanthemums, he could make a Canadian flag.

  I was hugged and pronounced a genius. I was proud. He promised to see me later in the week to let me know how things were progressing. Tragically, the next day didn’t come for the wee boy.

  My heart goes out to his devastated family. The ways of the Lord are sometimes hard to understand. What isn’t hard to understand is that Gabriel, who was “almost ten,” made a greater impact on the world around him and inspired more love and kindness than many who have opportunities far beyond their allotted “three score years and ten.”

  We love ye, Laddie. Until we meet again.

  Hello. I am Mary Frances Gallagher. Gabriel was my nephew and my very best friend.

  Just after he has born, Gabriel and his family came to live at my parents’ home. He couldn’t talk, of course, but it didn’t matter. We were able to read each other’s minds.

  My daddy, who is Irish and quite mystical, although he won’t admit it, called us “the faeries” and said we had our own language. We did, and we talked about everything.

  We wondered what we were supposed to do in the world, and Gabriel always said we were meant to help each other. He didn’t just mean other people; he meant animals too and the world itself. Of course he was right.

  From the time he was small, Gabriel wanted to be a vet. However, in the last few months, he had been reconsidering that. He seemed to have reached a decision because, a short time ago, he said to me, “Mary Frances, I believe I should become a medical doctor because I think human beings need me more.” I thought so too.

  It was not to be this time around. Maybe on your next assignment, Gabriel.

  As Mary Frances returned to her seat, the only sound was Finn sobbing. He was bent forward, his forehead resting on the pew in front of him. Molly cradled him in her arms, her face impassive. The rest of the family was completely undone by the sight of their broken patriarch, and many wept uncontrollably.

  The only ones to maintain their composure were Molly and Mary Frances and Gordie and Theresa who sat like statues, tightly clasping each other’s hand.

  Poor Miss McCready rose to announce the closing musical offering. She spoke bravely although very slowly. “This is our last song for Gabriel. It was his favorite in the world. Please rise and join the choir in our national anthem O Canada.”

  The choir rose to their feet. Each child had a tiny Canadian flag. The assembled group stood, and the song began.

  It was a very shaky start, the little voices quavering, the grown-up voices weakly joining in. Suddenly, a strong, clear voice took the lead. It was Gordie. The others took heart and soon the church rang with the triumphant song, celebrating our country and the little boy who loved it.

  When it was over, Gordie embraced Theresa. Suddenly, Finn reached forward from the pew behind and gently stroked his sleeve. Gordie turned, and he reached out his hand. Finn held it in both of his. Their eyes locked briefly before Mary Frances and Molly led him out of the pew.

  Gordie felt his k
nees weaken. “Come on, baby,” Theresa said. “We’ve still got a ways to go.” And he leaned on her as they left the church.

  Gabriel’s Miracles

  Billy and Gordie stepped out of the crowded tea and cookies reception at the school auditorium. Both were looking more solid, but Billy obviously had something on his mind.

  “Gordie, things have been better between us the last few years, but I want to say I’m sorry for being such an asshole for, you know, a long time. I understand that it wasn’t your fault; it was just like a teenage dream in my head that I couldn’t shake. I really want us to be friends.”

  “Forget about it, Billy,” Gordie said. “I hope we can be brothers,” and he held out his hand. Billy shook it warmly and continued somewhat hesitantly. “I want to ask your help.”

  “Anything,” Gordie said.

  “I want you and Theresa to help me get Kim to marry me.” Billy looked embarrassed.

  “What?” Gordie asked in surprise.

  "Well, you know Kim came here from Toronto where she had a big-time job with that fancy hair stylist to the rich and famous Alexander Wolf. They were best friends and when he died he left her his Yorkville salon and more because she had been so good to him when he was sick.

  "She hated that Toronto scene because she blamed it for his death. He had lived in the extremely fast lane. So she found a little beauty parlor on King Street where the owner was retiring. She worked there for a while, getting to know people, connecting, like that. That’s how she met Gran.

  "After people were used to her, she bought the old Russell place and renovated it into a real nice salon. At the end of 1994, she asked me if I would paint for her between Christmas and New Years before I was heading to Florida.

  "It turned out to be a good opportunity in more ways than one. She had been thinking a lot about having a baby, and she talked about it with Gran. Gran told her to go ahead and seduce me. So she did.

  "She was thirty-eight, a good-looking and sophisticated woman, and we did some powerful decorating. Come the New Year, off I went, never realizing that I had been used. I came back in June, none the wiser.