Aine
I first asked Aine to tell a story I’d heard snippets of: her Aunty Lily walking to school with her to tell off the teachers for hitting Aine the day before.
She hesitated, before saying, "you know, I deserved every bit of it." In face of her shame, Aunty Lily made her feel special.
"She gave out to her for hitting me, as if I were someone special, that I shouldn't be hit."
This took place in a small town in North West Ireland, where the customs of Catholicism reigned supreme. Aunty Lily marching to school to berate the nuns for their behaviour — even bringing Jesus’ name into her tirade — represented the peak of subversion. It has held a vivid place in Aine’s mind for all these years because of how it made her feel.
"So next day Aunty Lily walked out with us to school and it was quite a long walk so she asked to see the lady, so she saw Aunty Lily and Aunty Lily was not very amicable to her, let’s say."
Aine: "Oh" Tim: "They're very sweet" Aine: "They (turkeys) are about the most magnificent creatures God has ever made."
"Well, let me see, Timmy. You know I deserved every bit of it, that’s why I hesitate."
Aine spent the past many years in the United States in a convent, dedicating most of her adult years to solitary prayer. Now, into her ninth decade of life, her body has shrunk to that of a small bird, with frail bones and quivering muscles. She exists separate from her body, neglecting her pain in favor of praising the continued greatness of God. A recognition of sin remains constant, creating a certain shame that is only soothed through her faith. She feels not worthy of anything under the greatness of her God. That is, other than Aunty Lily making her feel special.
When I asked her to say more about Aunty Lily, she replied with effusive admiration. The things that made Lily special seemed to fly in the face of the surrounding cultural and religious norms. She was boisterous, irreverent, and “touched.” But more than any of that, she loved her nieces deeply.
"Oh, Aunty Lily was just everything to us. Yeah. She lived in Ballybofey and she loved us three, but then anytime we would annoy her, she would say 'you are out of my will!'"
"She was a little bit touched, Timmy. But we loved her. We knew it and we loved her."