Billy and Nancy McNamara
Trish reached out to London Irish Stories to share the poem she wrote for her mother Nancy and father Billy. The poem tells their London Irish Story.
"Nancy and Billy had 4 children. They have 6 grandchildren and 3 great grandchildren. Dad was born in Tullamore Offaly and Mum in Athenry Galway. They came to England in the early 50s and met through their work with the Catholic Church in Quex Road Kilburn. After raising their children in Hayes Middlesex, they retired to the south coast Bournemouth. Here their grandchildren had endless summers on the beach. Their life revolved around the church and their grandchildren. Dad passed away in 2013 and Mum in 2017. They are dearly missed” - Trish Appel
An Irish story
An Irish thought
An Irish blessing as
Memories are sought
To weave the journey
Of our Mum and Dad
A challenge, an honor,
Greater we never had
A Galway girl, an Offaly lad
50s Kilburn
Life choices were to be had
A more perfect match you could never find
A joining of both hearts and minds
50s London
A time to face, with grace
Abuse rejection due to race
No dogs no Irish on the door
Without anger nor rage
Time evened the score
The Galtimore
Where a Walz or two
For these dapper dressers kept their minds true
With stylish dreams
Faith and family made sure
Hearts stayed open despite the signs on the door
Dancing, dating
Hampstead Heath, Picnics
Coach trips, Off to the beach
Suited and booted, Collar and tie
50s fashion no one could deny
A Quex Road wedding
Two became one
No name change though
McNamara doubled in fun
As Church doors swung open
A new era begun
With Barrys, Ryans, O’Dwyers and more
Extended family kept an open door
Families grew, the years passed
The church gave loans if you asked
So before long
A permanent home set to last
Now in the country ....a home for six
Middlesex so foreign, so far
But while the green belt got tight
Kilburn called both day and night
Trains, buses but finally a car
Trips to the aunties on a Sunday drive
Ambling along would we ever arrive?
The siege of Venice
A reel or a spin
Irish dancing
The fiddle
The tin whistle
Which country are we in ?
A heart in Ireland a lifetime here
Where do we belong?
Always a little unclear
Families raised and a life shared
Blessing us all with a gift none could compare
A gift not draped in silver and gold
But simply
An open mind
Open hearts
No signs on doors
Let others in
All Gods children
All are our kin
Both now resting behind pearly doors
A life rich and complete
Our parents: London Irish
A more wonderful people you could never meet.
