An ordinary and extraordinary farewell to Albert Reynolds
Gifts offered by the former taoiseach’s grandchildren summed up his full life
The gifts offered at Albert Reynolds’s funeral Mass the Church of the Sacred Heart in Donnybrook yesterday. Photograph: Maxwells
The cards came out for one last time yesterday.
“My door is always open,’” he used to say. “The table is there. Varnished or unvarnished.”
For people to sit around and talk peace. Or maybe play a hand of poker.
Yesterday, the church door opened for Albert Reynolds and that table was there again, now draped in white linen with the gifts of his full life spread out on it.
Strangers might wonder: what class of statesman was he at all, with a deck of cards, a book of dancehall tickets, an old newspaper, a can of dog food and a well-thumbed race-card taking up so much space.
But then, they would see the photograph of a powerful politician in his prime, notice the substantial autobiography and – between a Gaelic football and a can of dog food – they would also see a framed and signed copy of the Downing Street Declaration.
And, pride of place among all this, one small black and white photo of Albert and Kathleen Reynolds and their seven children, taken in Longford in 1980, representing the happiness of one particular family and the father they love.
Oh, but they got a terrible day for Albert’s final send-off. The rain belted down. In some ways ironic, because he always loved the sun, yet the bleak weather mirrored the grief of a family bereft.
There is always a saying for times like this. Mourners looked to the teeming skies and the older ones smiled. “Happy the corpse that the rain falls on,” they said.
“Our hearts are broken” said Albert’s eldest son Philip, as he began his eulogy.
Marching bandFor all the theatre of a full State funeral – the presence of the President and the Taoiseach, the military marching band, honours rendered at the graveside, archbishops and bishops, former taoisigh, a former British prime minister and a telegram of condolence from the pope – this was still an Irish funeral. But Albert style: ordinary and extraordinary.
The Church of the Sacred Heart in Donnybrook was packed for the midday mass, with the congregation reflecting the vivid strands of the former taoiseach’s life.
So, alongside the huge attendance of politicians past and present and large contingent from the diplomatic corps, there were people from the business, entertainment and media worlds and a fair smattering of friends from Roscommon and Leitrim and farther afield.
The gifts left on the table by Albert’s grandchildren charted the course of his energetic existence – the inveterate dealmaker who went from railway clerk to showbiz kingpin to entrepreneur to politician, and a taoiseach who played a pivotal role in bringing peace to Ireland.