The Family Poet

You can never anticipate what you may find when you start to search your family history. My wife had asked me to clean out an old metal box full of her late parents’ papers. I knew there was a handwritten history that her aunt had researched years ago. It traced their Irish heritage back for centuries. But among the papers, I found copies of several hand written poems by my wife’s grandmother. Norah Hagan was the person everyone wants for a grandmother. She took my wife Maureen on the trip of a lifetime when she was sixteen years old. A six week tour of Europe including, Ireland, Denmark, Austria, and Italy.

Norah died in 1976 while touring Greece with her daughter. She was 79. She died doing what she loved. Two of the poems I found were about her travels and her husband, John who died in 1967. On stationary with her initials NVH and datelined Cavan, Ireland, 1962 she wrote:

An Irish Sunset

I walked along a country road
In an Irish county town
And felt the peace of evening
As I watched the sun go down
As I slowly reached the hill top
The sun had started to disappear
And looked like a great ball of fire
As it slowly sank in the atmosphere
The sky around it was a heavenly blue
And small white clouds that looked like down
Slowly drifted by and the golden rays seemed to form a crown
And as the sun slowly disappeared
I closed my eyes to fix my memory
This beautiful sight I had seen
Then slowly turned and walked away
And thanked my God for another day

I have seen the sun go down on both sides of the land
I watched it set on Galway Bay and Killarney’s Lakes so grand
But such a sight as the one I’ve seen in this Irish county town
In the little town in Cavan
I know I’ll never see again

Her love of country and her way with words bring you to that hilltop over fifty years ago. Having been to Ireland, I often described the countryside as like being on another planet. The rolling hills in shades of green take you out of this world. I think Norah captured that feeling of witnessing a magical moment in a special place that she didn’t want to forget.

The other poem was much more personal. Her husband had died a year earlier. On a trip to Fort Lauderdale, Florida she wrote this on stationary from the Royal Saxon Apartments, dated Feb. 18, 1968.

The Ocean Roar

The ocean roar upon the shore
Brings back memories that can be no more
We walked along hand in hand
And shared the peace and quiet so grand

Now I walk and listen and watch the sea
And feel his presence near to me
A life of happiness shared can never be forgotten
And I seem to hear him say
Enjoy each day just as we planned
Until the day we share the promised land

You can feel her ache and sadness at her loss. But her faith made her believe that we just may gain in heaven what we lost on earth.

Norah Hagan lived a rich full life with a loving husband, three children, and twelve grandchildren. I only knew her for a few years. Maureen has shared many memories of the woman who made her feel special for those six weeks in Europe. But the words she left behind shouldn’t be left in a tin box. They should be shared, so we can all see what she saw and felt on that hilltop in Ireland and that beach in Florida. The words of the family poet should live forever.