for the good of the order

“When I woke, I heard my mother  coughing, below in the kitchen. She had been coughing for days, but I had paid no attention.  We were living on the Old Youghal Road at the time, the old hilly coaching road into East Cork. The coughing sounded terrible. I dressed and went downstairs in my stocking feet, and in the clear morning light I saw her, unaware that she was being watched, collapsed into a little wickerwork armchair, holding her  side. She had made an attempt to light the fire, but it had gone against her.  She looked so tired and helpless that my heart turned over with compassion.  I ran to her.

“Are you all right, Mum?”  I asked.

“I ´ll be all right in a second” , she replied, trying to smile. “The old sticks were wet and the smoke started me coughing”

“Go back to bed and I´ll light the fire”, I said.

“Ah, how can I, child? She said anxiously. “Sure I have to go to work”

“You could not work like that” I said. I´ll stop at home from school and look after you”

It´s funny thing about women, the way they´ll take orders from anything in trousers, even if it´s only ten”

The man of the house – Frank O´Connor