I poignantly sang De Banks at Lourdes in memory of Teddy McCarthy

I’D say the last time I sang The Banks Of My Own Lovely Lee twice in the same day was back on Sunday, September 11, 2005!

Cork were after winning the All- Ireland for the second year in a row. I was in the crowd of over 81,000, and boy, did we sing De Banks after Seán Óg Ó hAilpín got the McCarthy Cup.

We stayed overnight in Dublin and gave the Cork anthem several more renditions before the midnight bells rang out.

On Tuesday last week in Lourdes, I sang that special song in the afternoon before a little gathering in a cemetery.

Just a century ago, in 1923, a young Cork girl, Mary Theresa O’Connell, was born to her Geoffrey O’Connell and Kilworth-born Elizabeth Kiersey. She worked in different jobs including in shops in Cork city.

The 1950s saw her working - like many other Irish people at the time - in a souvenir shop in Lourdes. When I first met her in 2008 she told me that ‘something or someone or something else called’ her and she crossed Rue de la Grotte in 1958 and joined the Pauvre Clarisse (Poor Clare) Community in Lourdes.

So, when I spoke to her she was just 50 years in the monastery and she’d never lost her Cork accent.

Visiting Sister Therese Marie O’Connell each June when with the Cloyne Pilgrimage was always a highlight for me. When I started going to Lourdes each winter ’twas the same and we’d have more time to chat - in June you’d want to make an ‘appointment’ to meet her as hundreds wanted to talk to her.

Though gone from Leeside for so many years, she loved Cork deeply.

In December, 2014, I called in but she was in poor health. She died in June, 2015, whilst the Cork and Ross Pilgrimage were in Lourdes, so she got a great Cork send-off with Bishop John Buckley leading the farewell.

On every subsequent visit to Lourdes, I get the key of the cemetery from the ‘doorkeeper’ Sr Fatima and visit Sr Therese’s grave. I promised her I’d sing The Banks Of My Own Lovely Lee by her graveside.

Last Tuesday, just five of us prayed by the grave of the only Irish Poor Clare nun in Lourdes. I sang De Banks and the Lourdes hymn as we rejoiced for a woman who gave 58 years of her life in prayer for others in Lourdes. Imagine, she’d be 100 this year.

Back in Lourdes after a three year covid ‘break’ last week, all of us with the Cloyne Pilgrimage were just absolutely delighted to be there. Our numbers weren’t as large as in former years, but it’s a great start.

Similarly, over the years we often had more than 100 Assisted Pilgrims in the guest house in Lourdes - this year we had 32, but they had a wonderful pilgrimage.

I’ve never been to Fatima, Garabandal or Medjugorje, but speaking to people who have visited these places, I know they are very special. I suppose why Lourdes means so much to me is because we go there to give of ourselves. It’s not a ‘look at me, aren’t I great’ kind of feeling, but rather being part of a community that interacts with young and old, able-bodied and those needing a helping hand.

On Tuesday morning last week, we had Mass with the Anointing of the Sick. 

It’s a ceremony that always overwhelms me and the special feeling when the Holy Oils are placed on forehead and hands is amazing. We all need healing in some way.

Every year, when I come home from the pilgrimage, I feel wrecked, drained and so tired, but overjoyed and so profoundly happy also.

After lunch on Tuesday, we had what we used formerly call ‘The Baths’ - now the Water Gesture. Our Lady told St Bernadette in 1858, ‘Go drink at the spring and wash yourself there’, and thus the baths were built in Lourdes.

One is wrapped in nothing more than a wet towel and totally immersed in the water. The sensation is really indescribable and I always feel a combination of shock and elation. Since covid came, this total immersion is gone. What we have now is still beautiful.

We stood there last Tuesday in groups of three, washed our hands with the water, then the face, and then drank the water from our cupped hands and prayed - fulfilling the wish of Our Lady to St Bernadette.

The Grotto Mass is always very special. This year the Bishop of Kilmore, Tipperary-born Martin Hayes was the chief celebrant along with our Bishop William Crean.

Bishop Hayes mentioned the Munster Hurling Final and, looking down on the Cloyne Youth Helpers in their distinctive red, said ’twas like Liberty Square in Thurles on big match day!

Each year in Lourdes we witness what I call minor miracles. People have profound experiences here - not in terms of health issues or getting instant cures - yes, I’ve seen some of those too, but I’m talking about peace, serenity, calm and acceptance.

Is there a person in the world without some problem or issue? Doubtful, I suppose, and coming to Lourdes is no magic formula that changes everything in a few days.

But how can one have peace in the midst of huge crowds with thousands milling around everywhere? I wish, I wish, dear reader, that I could give a simple, straightforward answer to that question, but I can’t!

Lourdes is always the same, yet every time I come I feel or encounter something different.

It’s not just me of course. I’ve met people who came to Lourdes out of curiosity who often thought they’d leave saying, ‘Been there, done that, end of story’. Yet meeting them after a few days, they are changed, changed utterly.

It’s often the little things that can make an impression on one. A person crying in pain might grip your hand for relief, and a few words might be said or an embrace or a glance as you pass someone in the street or at some quiet ceremony.

All little, seemingly unimportant encounters, but in Lourdes everything is part of the mosaic that builds up that total wonderful experience.

I met people in Lourdes last week who were there for the first time, like the youth helpers, and talked to others who have been coming for decades. They all had their own personal feelings and many wouldn’t even try to express them - that’s OK, that’s grand, that’s Lourdes for ya!

I lit just one big candle for all those who bid me to do so, and I know it burned away across from the Grotto long after we left on Wednesday morning.

Tuesday was our last full day in Lourdes. That evening we gathered at the spot by the River Gave where Bernadette bade farewell to the Grotto for the last time. She left for the Convent in Nevers and wouldn’t be back here again.

We read that beautiful piece from Ecclesiastes about a time for everything. When we came to the line, ‘a time to gather stones together, a time to throw stones away’, many threw a stone into the river.

All these stones were brought from the graves of loved ones at home -loved ones we all miss so much and who loved Lourdes so much. These stones from final resting places will forever link them with Lourdes.

I prayed and walked in the meadow across from the Grotto on my own. My phone was on silent.

My friend Tommy sent me a text on Tuesday night as darkness was falling in Lourdes. ‘Teddy Mac has died’. Shock, disbelief - surely a mistake, surely not Teddy McCarthy, it couldn’t be? I rang Tommy and he confirmed the awful truth for me.

I sat and cried for a while as thoughts of summer Sundays down the years ran through my head. A swallow swooped down and up the way Teddy used to do.

We had a farewell sing-song at The Little Flower that night. I was in no mood to sing, but felt I had to honour Teddy with a song.

So, in Lourdes on that Tuesday night, I sang ‘The Banks’ - for the second time that day.