Colum
Sometimes I think I actually had friends before mum and da died. At least, that's the way I remember it. Back then I didn't have anything to worry about. I'd go to school during the week and to mass on Sundays. My biggest responsibility was walking Bridget home from school, once she started. Mum would make dinner, da would watch while I did my homework, and when I had free time I could roam the streets of our Belfast neighborhood with my friends. As long as I didn't go too far, anyway.
At the time, I loved to play football. Da even took me to a game once, and I had a University of Ulster jersey. He'd play a game or two with me and the other lads when he had time. My da was popular with the other boys. Next to Aiden McKenna, he was a hero to all of us, or to me at least. I lost interest in it after he died though. It was never the same without him, and without my friends. Uncle Dermot tried to play with me once to cheer me up, but he wasn't da, and when he accidentally broke my finger, we both gave up on it.
If da was my link to the lighter side of life, mum was my tie with the religious world. And while his death seemed to weaken my social life, hers had little effect on my dealings with God. Maybe it was because gran took over where she left off.
She was a dear. She didn't show it the way da did, but she loved us so much. It was a quiet sort of devotion, seen in the meals she cooked, the clothes she mended, the wounds she cleaned, and the masses she made sure we attended. I'll never forget her devotion to God. I remember watching her during mass and trying to mimic her. I wanted to be like her, to love God with all my heart and to reflect deeply on him. Sometimes I still imagine her kneeling next to me in mass, and I like to think maybe she would be proud of me.
Bridget was just a young thing back then, though only a year younger than I, really. She hasn't changed much though. Even then she was pretty, and a master at wrapping people around her little finger. Everyone loved Bridget. There was a song that has always reminded me of her, one that I heard one of the boys singing about her once, in fact. "She is handsome, she is pretty, she's the bell of Belfast city." She was everyone's darling, with her neat little dresses and her big, playful eyes and her way of smiling that sweet smile at you that made you forget she had just used your homework as a paint palette. I guess she had me wrapped around her finger too, come to think of it.