In The Name Of My Father: Chapter 31
A delicate meeting…on which so much rests…
“Father Brannan speaking. How may I help you?”
“Oh Hi. My name is Ailsa. I’m wondering if you might be able to help me.”
“I’ll try my best.”
“I’m trying to locate a priest who worked in your parish and I was wondering if you had a few minutes to speak with me.”
“We’ve had a few changes of priests over the years, but I might be able to check back for you. Exactly how long ago are we talking?”
“That I don’t exactly know. You wouldn’t be free now by any chance?”
“I am. How long will it take you to get here?”
“The short answer is, as long as it takes to walk to your front door. Please forgive my audacity, but I just hoped you would see me. I have all my fingers crossed. I hope you don’t see that as too presumptuous.”
“Not at all he replied,” as he opened the front door to find a very attractive young woman.
As Ailsa finished relating her story, she found herself earnestly assuring the priest that she had no plans to go public with what she had learned, but that it was important to her, that she locate her family. She had a right to know them, and they, in turn, her.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been to church, like many of my generation,” she confessed, “So I probably don’t deserve your help, but I know that you preach about family and God’s love. I also appreciate that instinctively you will want to protect your own, and that is understandable. However, it’s a two-way street Father, and all I ask of you is that you understand my predicament, and that you find it in your heart to help me.
“I give you my word that I will tell no one, not even my father. He’s the one I thought was my father until recently,” she added for clarification. “If I could have chosen the best father he would have been there, at the top of the list. He sincerely believes in all of us finding our true north as he calls it, and he’s right behind me in helping me find mine. I haven’t slept much since all this came out.”
“You poor darling girl, I do understand your dilemma. I too found out about my true parentage when I was around your age. I was pretty shocked at first, as my adoptive parents hadn’t alluded to it in any way. They were wonderful parents too, just like your father, and I had no reason to believe that I was not their child.
“I was born with two toes missing from my left foot, you see, and my mother was young and simply couldn’t deal with what she saw as a less-than-perfect child. She never took me home.”
“Ouch! That must have hurt.”
“I was very fortunate in that my adoptive parents could afford the medical treatment I needed, and I reached all my milestones like any normal child. I now wear special shoes. They’re expensive, but wonderfully comfortable, and few people notice my slightly irregular gait.
“I was a mixture of emotion when I was told, and sad that someone saw me as deficient, but I soon got over that. Decisions people make when they are young can always be forgiven. I forgave my mother before even thinking about trying to find my family.”
“But you’re glad you followed through?”
“Oh absolutely! I worried at times, and doubted myself, but then I’d find some renewed excitement that buoyed me on, and I can tell you now, the whole exercise was both exciting and enervating. Be prepared for that.
“I have no idea where my mother is, but I’ve met people within the family who are now my best friends, and that’s as the good Lord tells us how things should be. My mother left her family and went overseas, never to be seen again. Maybe one day I might be fortunate enough to meet up with her…maybe,” he added wistfully.
“She would be very proud of you.”
“She’d be very old now, maybe sad and lonely. I don’t dwell on the possibility because I now have family and that’s more than I ever hoped for.
“Now Ailsa,” he said, handing her the names of potential priests. Let’s just say we haven’t had this conversation. You simply came to find out who the parish priest was some thirty years ago. That’s right, isn’t it?” he winked.
“Oh Father you are too, too kind. I had this idea that you would play your cards close to your chest and that you would divulge nothing, and that after that I’d have to start door-knocking on any close-by retirement homes to get to first base, but I’m already there. I promise I will be the soul of discretion.”
“I’m an excellent judge of character if I say so myself. And you know, if it happened to come up in a conversation, and you had let the cat out of the bag, inadvertently, well we’d deal with that as best we could. But I’m certain that won’t happen. My life has changed so much since discovering I had a whole family, and you deserve just as much. You are young, and vibrant, and I have a sneaking suspicion that you will succeed. I could never deny you the same happiness.
“Being a priest is often lonelier than hell and between you and me being single just isn’t right. Good luck my dear,” he said, as he laid a hand gently on her shoulder. “I wish you every happiness, but most of all, I hope the family embraces you as I would have done. You are one of life’s blessings.”
“In that case we have two of them sitting side by side, Father. Thank you. Thank you. I’d best go before I disgrace myself by flooding your office with my tears. They just don’t suit me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Tears…I was never meant to cry. My face swells up and in an instant and I look like the scariest caricature of myself.”
“Fiddlesticks! You’re one very attractive woman, so save those wet ones for when you find the rest of your puzzle. You will fit right in, I know! Actually, that’s not quite right. You will do more than that. You will change that family in ways I cannot even imagine right now. Your biological father and your mother were clearly two very special people. I hope we meet again one day. Tread carefully my dear, and God be with you.”
“My card,” she said, “and yes, I promise we will stay in touch.”
Ailsa wasn’t one to give way to too many tears, but as she drove away from the presbytery, the face of the old priest firmly etched in her mind, she allowed them to flow in ways that surprised even her. “It’s not bloody right. Nobody should live their lives weighed down with loneliness, nobody!” she declared vehemently, pounding the driving wheel with her fist, at the same time convincing nobody but herself.
The meeting that she had been so dreading had restored just a little faith in the church she had steadfastly avoided. Father Brannan had proven himself to be an angel in disguise, anticipating her needs and freely handing over the vital information she needed.
“Thank you Mom,” she whispered. “Sometimes in this imperfect world you meet the most perfect of people. I met one today, and I think I can move forward. Thank you for looking after me.”
She drove herself to a nearby coffee shop, ordered a large, hot black, and was soon plugged in to their internet. There she sat for a couple of hours trawling through every O’Grady she could find, the most likely of the three names she was given. A Scottish mother with an Irish surname…now that was an interesting mix, she thought! With so little information to go on though, there seemed little hope in making any easy connections.
Ancestry.com was even more daunting. It seemed to her that half of Ireland was related to one O’Grady or another. She was tired, too tired, and totally overwhelmed.
And so, she sat there feeling as if she had been disconnected from the whole world, and for the first time in her life, she began to understand the plight of the marginalized. Compared to them she had little to complain about. She just had a bloody Herculean job on her hands. All she needed was the requisite energy and success would be hers…in an ideal world….
But then, an epiphany occurred!
It probably wouldn’t serve as her greatest work on earth, but hey, everyone she knew spent time there every day. Wasn’t it the perfect use for the social network it was once designed to be? Who knows the many shares she might enjoy, or how far and wide her message might spread? With the paucity of information she had, it was definitely better than spending endless hours on search engines, or walking from street to street, photo in hand, pathetically asking, ‘Have you ever seen this man?’
Father Brannan poured himself a drink, and sat back to relax and ponder about just how the Lord works. As a priest, his principal charter was to serve, and today he’d been called on, to do just that!
Instinctively he’d liked the young woman, so it wasn’t hard to agree to help her, and he had, except he could have gone further, but that would have been too much of a risk at this stage…raising her hopes…maybe having them dashed…or having news that would have served nobody!
Better to wait!
On his lap he had placed a pile of graduate yearbooks, and as he idly flicked through a few of them, he came across one in particular. It was the year when he had filled in at the seminary for a friend who had become ill and subsequently died. It was a pleasant time in his life where he had met some admirable students, and befriended quite a few. Some he was still in touch with.
He’d think about things.
But as he arranged them back into a fastidiously neat pile, one page fell open, and he recognized the photo of a familiar young student priest. They’d got to know each other that year, and though he had never confessed to him, Father Brannan was pretty sure he was homosexual. If he was, he’d certainly kept it in check. Here was one graduate he might be able to trace.
He picked up his phone, and dialed.
An unlikely first clue…serendipity in action…
Alistair had lost one patient, another faced months of rehabilitation, and yet another he dared not think about. His life seemed like a roller coaster of anxiety. Switching off was difficult.
In the early hours of the morning as he’d watched one patient’s family sit quietly as their father lapsed in and out of consciousness, he’d realized how much of life we take for granted.
A few days ago, this patient had been looking forward to setting up a new life for his family overseas, an exciting position, and now…well, who knows? It could go either way.
Sleep eluded him, and as he lay with his thoughts, it suddenly it occurred to him. Maybe he could help Ailsa’s research.
All she had was a name. She knew her father had been a priest, and that he’d been killed through fair means or foul, but the paucity of information daunted her.
Why had it not occurred to him? He was Alistair, and he’d been named after a priest…but almost immediately he slapped the idea down. It was too much of a coincidence.
Yet the thought plagued him, clinging like a love-lost barnacle to his mind, and so, as early as was socially acceptable, and feeling decidedly at odds with his intuition, he rang.
“Hey Alistair…good to hear from you…on your way to work?”
“Actually I just got off night duty, Dad. One of the most taxing shifts in a long time. I feel I could sleep for a year, but it‘s not happening. You know how it is. You ask yourself if you did enough for one patient, if your surgery was totally successful for another, what the family might do if a person dies.”
“It’s martyrdom at its best I think…comes with the job.”
‘Absolutely, so…look I wanted to speak with you.”
“Nothing wrong, is there?”
“No, all’s fine as far as I am concerned. Sorry about not catching up with you last time I was over. The kids haven’t forgiven me.”
“They’ll get over it. What happened to the girl’s mother by the way?”
“Didn’t I get back to you on that one? She died, but the good news on her father is that his growth was benign. The mother slipped away while he was in theater…strange how things work out. He’s made a full recovery.”
“Life’s a lottery I always say. You take the rough with the smooth.”
“My job reminds me every day of how fortunate we are to enjoy good health. Others are not so lucky.”
“If people invested in decent food, instead of all that boxed up rubbish from the supermarkets, you could be out of a job.”
“And from the perspective of a doctor, that would be just great. I could cash in my super and take myself off to a tropical island and live like a monk.”
“You realize there are no wine cellars in temples, don’t you!”
“Well that puts paid to that idea,” he laughed. “Look Dad, I’m feeling a bit silly ringing you about this. You might even think I’ve lost my marbles,” he said, scratching his head in embarrassment, something he tended to do when he was uncomfortable.
“I won’t comment on that one!”
“Do you remember the name of your friend Alistair, the one I was named after?”
“How could I forget it? We were mates forever, well, from the age of five when we started school. His mother Jean was the Scot, hence the name Alistair, but his dad hailed from County Donegal. He was as Irish as the pigs of Docherty, as the saying goes. Never lost a hint of his accent, and always planned to die in his homeland. It’s funny how people get sentimental as they grow older, isn’t it!”
“I’ll let you know when that happens…but his surname…can you remember?”
“O’Grady, Paddy O’Grady. Why do you ask?”
“Before I answer that, just play along with me for a while if you don’t mind. Can you describe Alistair for me?”
“Too easy! You know they were a fine-looking family. There were three girls and Alistair, all of them good-looking, tall and with legs up to their armpits as my father used to say. But the parents were quite strict, so any signs of vanity in the children were pretty smartly quashed by both of them, so the children grew up to be terrific human beings. His dad’s modus operandi went something like this. The best way to trip yourself up is to think you are smarter, or better than others. The kids all seemed to get the message, so you never ever heard them putting others down, or bad-mouthing people.
“But you asked about Alistair. He was one of the most decent human beings I ever had as a friend. He was a bit of a rogue…loved a laugh. He was a hit with all the girls and I can tell you now, while he was ever around, the rest of us played second fiddle.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, like I said, he was darned good-looking for a start, tall, lean, dark…like one of those black Irish you hear people talk about…lots of curly black hair, so the girls all gravitated to him.”
“Lucky bloke!”
“You could say that, but somehow he seemed unaware that the line up for him was not something we all enjoyed. There’s something attractive about a person who has that natural, understated charisma. You don’t see that often.
“What we lads all liked about him was that he was a devil who got away with murder. He was totally, totally irreverent when it came to religion. We used to be sniggering in our seats, Alistair pretending all the while that he was deep in prayer except he was the one who had, on the fly I might add, changed all the words of the prayers or hymns. He was clever, and too funny for words, and he never missed an opportunity for a bit of fun.”
Alistair waited for a while, hoping his father would add to what he had said.
“In life,” he went on, “you only meet a few real friends…you know, the ones that would walk over hot coals for you, the ones you can rely on to back you in a struggle, the ones that are salt of the earth. He was one of those. He was my best friend by far, even after we left school, so you can imagine my shock when he told me, at the eleventh hour by the way, that he was to become a priest. I thought he was joking. I truly did, but he was serious.”
Alistair couldn’t believe what he was hearing…Alistair O’Grady, Father O’Grady…the parallel couldn’t be a coincidence, could it?
“That’s interesting…anything else I should know?”
“Such as?”
“Well what did he look like? You say he was tall and lean, but can you add to that?”
“He had really dark eyes…did I say he was tall and lean before?”
“You did!”
“AND, he was a very good soccer player.”
“Isn’t every Scot or Irish male great at soccer?”
“Many of them are, but he could have gone places had he wanted to. He had more than his fair share of talent, sport, social, and intellectual. Gosh he was clever, very clever. I could have seen him going into medicine, like you, or the law…but NEVER the priesthood, especially when he had the adulation of all the girls, coupled with an amazing handle on what’s really important in life.
“We had words the day he told me. I have to say that mine were pretty harsh. I was hurt. I couldn’t understand why he hadn’t at least confided in me. But these days I can.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, he knew that I would have tried to talk him out of it, and I did try anyway.
“I begged him to come to Europe with me and at least have a last fling, check out some girls, see the best of Italy and Greece in particular, but he was determined. After that we just kind of drifted apart, something I am ashamed of to this day. I married your mother, and when you were born with your shock of black hair, Alistair had to be your name.
“I’m sure I’ve told you all this before.”
“I think you missed out much of the fine detail…probably wasn’t important at the time.”
“It’s funny how things happen. We all kind of drifted after that, all our friends, and even Alistair’s family. You’d like them. There were four kids in the family, three girls and Alistair…did I already tell you that?”
“You did, but go on.”
“Well, being her only son, you can understand why Mrs. O’Grady was so upset about her boy’s calling. The fact is, she wasn’t Catholic, so the idea of her son entering the priesthood had no appeal for her. She doted on him.”
“Don’t all mothers smother their sons with love? I would have no idea.”
“Come on! I even saw a bit of that with you and your mother. There’s something about the relationship between mothers and sons. Mrs. O’Grady was no different, so much so that the girls, her girls, used to complain. They had the same outgoing personalities by the way. They had all married by the time Alistair entered the seminary.”
“There’s no one person who would have kept in touch with the family?”
“I don’t know, to be honest. I’m a bit of a dead-end street when it comes to keeping friendships alive. Let me talk to your mother. She’s more into this stuff than I am. You haven’t explained why you need to meet them.”
“Look, for the time-being, this is for your ears only. You know the woman whose mother was killed…the one we were talking about earlier?”
“Yes?”
“I’m wondering if she could be Alistair’s daughter.”
“What?”
A long silence hung between the two as Alistair’s father digested the information. Eventually Alistair spoke.
“I know. I’m drawing a long bow here, and I feel a little embarrassed about asking you, but he wouldn’t be the only priest to have sired a child.”
“Doesn’t sound like Alistair. He had standards.”
“Dad you’re a man, for god’s sake. Standards don’t apply when you fall madly in love with someone. You should know that.”
“So what makes you think she’s his daughter?”
“Look Dad, Ailsa, that’s her name by the way, also a Scottish name…Ailsa and I have become good friends in the last few months and it was only after her mother’s death that her father explained to her about Alistair being her biological father. He felt that she had a right to know.”
“Oh! Was that wise?”
“Absolutely! As a doctor I can see many good reasons for knowing your genealogy. Donors are always better to come from one’s biological family.”
“Of course…I hadn’t considered that.”
“Anyway, for a long time she had felt her mother had been hiding something from her, and that she’d wanted to talk about it. Ailsa had been trying to nudge her along. She’d get close to saying something, and then she’d pull back.
“But of course then she had the accident and died, and there seemed no way that she would ever know the truth. Later, when John, her adoptive father, had regained his health, the two began talking and she asked him what he thought she might be trying to say. That’s when he told her, so now she realizes that there’s a whole family out there that she has never met, but wants to. She’s scared, but she’s also determined.
“You’d like her, by the way.”
“If she’s anything like Alistair I’m sure I would. What makes you so sure that he’s her father?”
“It’s just a hunch. You described Alistair to me only a few seconds ago. The two sound like a perfect match. She even has the devilish sense of humor.”
“Oh my goodness, I’ll have to sit down and try to take this all in. Let me talk to your mother. She keeps in touch with many people. It’s just as well she doesn’t rely on me. Goodness it’s all so hard to believe, but at the same time it’s possible. You know I had a feeling things wouldn’t work out for him as a priest.”
“From all I have heard he was very unhappy and wanted to leave.”
“Any idea what he’s up to now?”
“He’s not up to anything. He was run over and killed by a truck.”
“NO!”
“That was a long time ago, before Ailsa was born. Seems he’d just been to visit his superior to ask to be relieved of his position, and somehow he missed his footing and fell under a truck.”
“Or was distracted…or distressed, maybe?”
“Either…you could take your pick. I’m thinking that we will never know.”
“So, his girl was pregnant? Is that what you are saying?”
“Correct! We can speculate on all that happened at the meeting, but if he’d been railroaded into something, or threatened by his superior, you can imagine that he wasn’t paying attention.
“I think the church conveniently took the tack that he had committed suicide.”
“An O’Grady would never suicide.”
“Interesting to hear you say that! The family didn’t buy the idea either. They were angered by the church’s seeming duplicity, and wanted answers, insisting they knew Alistair better. The sad thing is that you need closure to pick up the threads of your own lives and keep living.”
“Well you would know better than I do about that. The family was totally right. Alistair never would have taken his life. He was too positive. Problems to him were challenges that he always found a way around, often at the expense of the unwary. I can’t tell you how sorry I am to have learned all of this.
“Now you say that you and Ailsa are friends. Is this a special friendship by any chance?”
“Too early to say…I like her a lot. She’s great to be around, full of life, fiery, quick-witted, and, I should warn you, risqué. She aims to shock and gets away with it.”
“She sounds just like Alistair.”
“Maybe you should meet her. Let me get back to you. As I said, I thought I was drawing a long bow…why I was really reluctant to call you, but I’m glad I did. What an incredibly small world we live in, if I am in any way on the money! Now all I have to do is to confess to Ailsa about what I’ve been up to and we’ll take it from there.”