My first memory of meeting Uncle Fran, I was very young maybe five or six years old and it was early on a Saturday morning. I was up and on the move as very young children are wont to do on a Saturday morning. I came pootling downstairs, the living room was dark, and the curtains were closed, but there on the sofa was a big person, snoring loudly and tucked up under a big coat. Who was this person and why were they taking up the WHOLE SOFA, didn't they know Saturday morning was prime cartoon time, Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, Elmer Fudd and they all needed to be watched from the comfort of the sofa. MY sofa, and this person had taken over as their 'leaba'. I was naturally indignant at this fella, so went over for a closer look. Hmm, he looked a bit like my Dad, but his big moustache told me this was not Dad. He opened a Bleary blinking eye, "Howiya Jennifer" he says. 'Howiya" says I.
I'd like to tell you how this unusual introduction played out and if I ever got to watch Bugs Bunny and claim back the sofa, but sadly the memory ends there. I have a familiar feeling that there may have been a whiff of the doghouse in the air over the white pudding, rasher and eggs that morning; both brothers just might have had an adventure the previous night that took in some of Dublin's finest public houses, but surely not, I must have imagined that bit!
Some of the best nights I have had in the pub, in both Dublin and London, have been with Fran. He was like a bright light in the room around which everyone gathered, everyone knew him, and he knew everyone, there was always the cupla focal for whoever arrived and plenty of stories and craic. He had that Irish talent for telling a story with strokes of colour, light and shade, good humoured, intelligent and full of the charm. "C'mere to me" he'd say, and he'd be off, and you'd listen with great appreciation.
When I first came to London in the 1990's Fran and Nuala where my cornerstone. They checked in making sure I was safe and sound. When homesickness got a little too much, they were both there, quietly ensuring I was ok. After living in Dublin, London, for all its excitement, felt never-ending and a little overwhelming, I was grateful for a Sunday afternoon visit and we would watch an episode of the Antiques Roadshow with a cup of Rosie and all would feel right with the world again.
One Sunday Fran and Nuala (again quietly making sure I was ok) took me to the V&A. We drove there in Fran's Citroen with Classical music playing on the car radio, it was a hot summers day, but everything felt green and shady on our drive into South Kensington. We watched the artists hanging their canvases on the Bayswater Road, people milling about with Sunday newspapers, small kids, dogs, bikes, the odd Routemaster bus passing by. I had never been to the V&A and Fran was keen to show me around, knowing how much I appreciated art. I had never seen anything like it before, William Morris patterns, Pre-Raphaelite paintings by Millais and Holman Hunt. Fran gave me a guided tour of these beautiful artworks, telling me things about the artists I didn't know, discussing the model and what the painting represented. Whilst we were looking at the painting 'The Day Dream' by Rosetti and taking in its beauty Fran said, "great painting but he a fecker for the women that fella". And thus, we were brought down from our lofty artistic heights and peeled with laughter in that quiet corner of the V&A.
I have so many memories of Fran from all ages and stages in my life, he has stood out in such sharp focus for many reasons, primarily as the person who warmly welcomed you in and made you feel included. He really took an interest in you, he listened and asked you questions, and remembered it all the next time you met. He was erudite and impassioned, especially in his love of music, literature and art. His love for his hometown Dublin which he never lost was always there and he was a true man of Dublin. His love for his family, the truly amazing and kind-hearted Nuala, his two wonderful children Fiona and Cathal, so much of that which made Fran so loved lives on in you both. Each and every one of his beautiful and loving grandchildren who he adored and talked of with so much Pride.
We will miss you profoundly our dear and wonderful Fran
Love
Jenney
My first memory of meeting Uncle Fran, I was very young maybe five or six years old and it was early on a Saturday morning. I was up and on the move as very young children are wont to do on a Saturday morning. I came pootling downstairs, the living room was dark, and the curtains were closed, but there on the sofa was a big person, snoring loudly and tucked up under a big coat. Who was this person and why were they taking up the WHOLE SOFA, didn't they know Saturday morning was prime cartoon time, Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, Elmer Fudd and they all needed to be watched from the comfort of the sofa. MY sofa, and this person had taken over as their 'leaba'. I was naturally indignant at this fella, so went over for a closer look. Hmm, he looked a bit like my Dad, but his big moustache told me this was not Dad. He opened a Bleary blinking eye, "Howiya Jennifer" he says. 'Howiya" says I.
I'd like to tell you how this unusual introduction played out and if I ever got to watch Bugs Bunny and claim back the sofa, but sadly the memory ends there. I have a familiar feeling that there may have been a whiff of the doghouse in the air over the white pudding, rasher and eggs that morning; both brothers just might have had an adventure the previous night that took in some of Dublin's finest public houses, but surely not, I must have imagined that bit!
Some of the best nights I have had in the pub, in both Dublin and London, have been with Fran. He was like a bright light in the room around which everyone gathered, everyone knew him, and he knew everyone, there was always the cupla focal for whoever arrived and plenty of stories and craic. He had that Irish talent for telling a story with strokes of colour, light and shade, good humoured, intelligent and full of the charm. "C'mere to me" he'd say, and he'd be off, and you'd listen with great appreciation.
When I first came to London in the 1990's Fran and Nuala where my cornerstone. They checked in making sure I was safe and sound. When homesickness got a little too much, they were both there, quietly ensuring I was ok. After living in Dublin, London, for all its excitement, felt never-ending and a little overwhelming, I was grateful for a Sunday afternoon visit and we would watch an episode of the Antiques Roadshow with a cup of Rosie and all would feel right with the world again.
One Sunday Fran and Nuala (again quietly making sure I was ok) took me to the V&A. We drove there in Fran's Citroen with Classical music playing on the car radio, it was a hot summers day, but everything felt green and shady on our drive into South Kensington. We watched the artists hanging their canvases on the Bayswater Road, people milling about with Sunday newspapers, small kids, dogs, bikes, the odd Routemaster bus passing by. I had never been to the V&A and Fran was keen to show me around, knowing how much I appreciated art. I had never seen anything like it before, William Morris patterns, Pre-Raphaelite paintings by Millais and Holman Hunt. Fran gave me a guided tour of these beautiful artworks, telling me things about the artists I didn't know, discussing the model and what the painting represented. Whilst we were looking at the painting 'The Day Dream' by Rosetti and taking in its beauty Fran said, "great painting but he a fecker for the women that fella". And thus, we were brought down from our lofty artistic heights and peeled with laughter in that quiet corner of the V&A.
I have so many memories of Fran from all ages and stages in my life, he has stood out in such sharp focus for many reasons, primarily as the person who warmly welcomed you in and made you feel included. He really took an interest in you, he listened and asked you questions, and remembered it all the next time you met. He was erudite and impassioned, especially in his love of music, literature and art. His love for his hometown Dublin which he never lost was always there and he was a true man of Dublin. His love for his family, the truly amazing and kind-hearted Nuala, his two wonderful children Fiona and Cathal, so much of that which made Fran so loved lives on in you both. Each and every one of his beautiful and loving grandchildren who he adored and talked of with so much Pride.
We will miss you profoundly our dear and wonderful Fran
Love
Jenney
