Our Mother, Maureen O’Toole died on the 25th of November 1993 after a tough battle with multiple minoma at the age of 48. Leaving behind, Dad 51, Caroline 24, Martina 21, Maria 18, Anthony 12 and finally the baby me at the age of 7. My memories are very vague. My first memory of Mam was her dedication to Garrymore. She basically ran things in the background. She attended every game and was a pillar to the club. I would happily go to the tea room after the game and she would make tea (I loved tea) and sandwiches while smiling and talking to everyone. At home she did everything for us, I had a “hide n seek” game. She would make a liga bottle but with CF she had to put enzymes for my stomach in the bottle. She would make me run and hide while she did this, I thought it was a game but now I know it was to put the tablets in the bottle cause she knew I wouldn’t drink it if I seen the tablets.I have one very vivid memory. One morning I decided I didn’t want to go to school and I had convinced dad I was sick but our mother dragged me out the door and delivered me to Carnageehy NS. Even though I had CF, she treated me like all the other kids. When she became ill I was oblivious. She was kept in Merlin park in Galway and going to visit mam was an outing for me. It would mean supermacs and on one occasion we went to see 101 Dalmatians in the cinema.

Me and Anthony made a plan when Mam came home for a few days to ask could we please get a treehouse for Christmas.  She of course agreed and we were happy but mam knew herself she wouldn’t see Christmas of 1993.

On another occasion when really sick I wanted mam to make me breakfast before school, nothing else would do. In the end she got up as sick as she was and made me breakfast.

When Mam died, Dad came to the school. My teacher, Maeve O’Dea, came into the room and I was called out. The lads were saying how lucky I was to go home. Upon leaving the classroom I saw Anthony hugging Dad and thought he fell or something. Being a vague moment Dad told me Mam was asleep for good and I pretended to cry, still to young to realise. Only when I seen Mam in the coffin in Careys funeral home Ballindine, I realised the extent of the situation and cried.

Even through being told what she shouldn’t do, she fought until the very end and did whatever she could for her family as well as community and families with CF. Back then she would travel to families in connaught and beyond and comfort them as well as teach them of the implications of Cystic Fibrosis. So if you think we all took our courage and drive from the wind you are mistaken. We have taken it from the bravest, most unselfish and good hearted woman I know. I will never know her full capabilities as I was too young, all I do know is that we are only a shadow of a woman that’s life was cut short. This is only the life of Maureen O Toole from my eyes, I’m sure my 3 sisters and Anthony were different but upon talking to them and her friend and people she met, there is a common trend. Live life to the full and always give back. We will continue to make her proud.

RIP Mam.

I love you xxxx

#livelife

#beatcf