JIMMY KEOGH R.I.P.

Strange how I remember a story from 

my mother’s mouth, yet I can’t remember 

my children being born. She stepped out 

along Rathmines Dodder Dublin’s Grand 

canal with her friend Pam Mason little Jimmy 

her brother Maggie my nan was delivering 

a baby, she was the unofficial midwife. 

Poverty was rife and many couldn’t afford health-

care, so Maggie was called upon, Patty didn’t mind 

looking after five-year-old Jimmy she loved him 

very much and knew her mum was widowed, her husband/

father died of tuberculosis at the young age of twenty-seven 

a civil soldier buried at Glasnevin cemetery. Grief left an 

aching hole in her and her family’s hearts. 

Patty and Pam sat on the bench flicking through Pattie's 

autograph book, little jimmy was throwing stones 

scaring the swans. They stopped at Kate o Hara’s scribble 

it looks like little jimmy wrote it said Pam and they giggled.

Patty said I met her in Woolworths with her daughter she had

 flowing black hair, ha, ha caught ya said Pam she has ginger 

hair jumping up and down pointing she had black hair for 

the movie she was starring in, pam sat looked at the scribble 

beside orange peel. 

Rinty the bell boy at the Gresham told me she was staying 

there with her daughter and she dyed her hair black. 

I waited for hours and followed her into Woolworths 

and asked for her autograph. 

She lowered her sunglasses and asked how I knew, I told her

the bell boy told me, she gave me an orange signed for Patty 

and shook my hand there she stuck her tongue out at Pam

Just then she heard a big splash. 

Little jimmy had dived into the Dodder and grabbed the feet 

off the swan wildly flapping honking, let go Jimmy let go, Patty

 screamed the swan lifted jimmy off the water look at me Patty 

I’m flying his feet left the water he let go and she dragged him 

from the water, you’re a crazy kid drying him with her cardigan, 

don't tell mum, promise and they shook hands.

Mum was a fifty-year-old stroke victim who ad five strokes but 

her mind was still sharp to remember, as she was telling me this

 story. In my mind, Jimmy fell from the ladder to his death like 

his father just twenty-seven beside his winkle picker new leather-

soled shoes, the leather shammy fell splat to the ground.

I’m crying, rock on Jimmy R.I.P.