Hollies - memories and tribute Just over 10 years ago, Grandad gave my sister a copy of Calvino’s Cosmicomics collection – a set of short sci-fi stories exploring the creation of Earth. I remember two things about this day, the first being the bewildered looks on everyone’s faces as Jade unwrapped the present. Grandad launched into an in-depth description of the book, its writer and its various themes all whilst Jade stared wide eyed at him. The second thing I remember are the flickers of irrational jealousy I felt that the book was not for me – something I needn’t have worried about as it eventually ended up on my bookshelves after I asked to ‘borrow’ it. So, when it came to thinking about how to say goodbye and how to pick from the numerous books Grandad had given me over the years, I was surprised that I kept instinctively reaching for this one – why was this the one I needed over the others, a book that was never intended for me? I re-read the book last week and the reasons why became clear. The main character - in the words of the editors - has a name that is ‘unpronounceable’ and is a ‘cosmic know-all’ with an ‘irrepressible’ nature – who does that remind you of? With each story the protagonist explores the nature of our existence; critically self reflects on his own and still centres a quiet and reserved love of others, I saw Grandad come alive and leap from the pages. That was who Grandad was and will always be for me – someone who is hard to describe in words and someone who seemed beyond this earth, but also helped me understand my own, very material place within it. The protagonist’s cycles of creation and self-criticism that inevitably leads into quiet withdrawal was the second reason I chose this book. Whilst Grandad and I never spoke explicitly abut these cycles, I felt he understood mine more than most because they were ones he also lived through. In one section, the protagonist comes across a street sign that he made in earlier stages of the universe. He reflects on how he would have previously been so critical of his work, thinking of all the ways others would have found flaws within it. However, he now states: ‘And thinking of the judgment I would no longer be able to change, I suddenly left a kind of relief, as if peace could come to me only after a moment when there would be nothing to add and nothing to remove in that arbitrary ledger of misunderstandings, and the galaxies which were gradually reduced to the last tail of the last luminous ray, winding from the sphere to darkness, seemed to bring with them the only the possible truth about myself, and I couldn’t wait until all of them, one after the other, had followed this path.’ Coming across this passage, it felt like he was speaking directly to me, as if asking me to let go and and live beyond others’ expectations and judgment. I hope this is something he also felt and a feeling I hope to live up to in his memory. The final and most important reason that this was the book I needed in order to say goodbye was finally realising, some 10 years later, why Grandad had given it to my sister. Each short story sees the protagonist watch other characters filled with a pure, playful imagination and joy where Earth means endless possibilities, rather than potential failures. This playful and hopeful nature reminds me so much of my sister growing up – her imagination that came alive outside of books, in comparison to mine being held within them. No one that Christmas could understand why Grandad had given this book to Jade, but I now see it so clearly and it shows his unique ability to communicate his understanding of others through the gift of books, as well as providing the perfect way for me to say goodbye.

David , Thank you both for welcoming me into your family 20 years ago over a coffee. We will always treasure and display in our home the perfect picture you took that evening.I am a lucky girl to have had you and Brenda as Inlaws .We will miss you but I am sure your are with Brenda now , smiling and watching over us . Love Michelle

David is the only person that I know that has actually read Ulysses. When he came to Mayo recently, He wanted to hear some of it in an Irish accent, this was my first introduction to Joyce. I didn’t understand a word. He was an avid reader with a library to be admired, I’m building mine but I’ll never get to his standard or volume. He was always smiling and good natured. He will be missed. John , Mikhail, Fiona and family