Jim Dempsey, an appreciation

Before the day of the developer, the local community arguably had much more connections with their local builders than is the case today. Whether for the provision of a new home, or renovation and maintenance of older ones, we knew who to go to. Not a company. Not a consortium. A person.

For many of my generation, Jim Dempsey was one of the cohort of such local builders in this part of County Kildare. And when a piper played 'Amazing Grace' as he was brought on his last visit to Kilcullen Parish Church, most of us in attendance would have had some interaction with Jim, whether as a friend, or because he worked on our homes, or most likely both.

This writer's home is just one example of Jim's work, and his passing adds to the list of those who toiled with him to build it four decades ago and who are no longer with us. Willy Baxter, electrician, Tony Dempsey, plasterer, Noel Hegarty, foreman, and so on.

In the chill outside the church on Saturday, there were remembrances too many to retell. "Jim always did good work, and he always had good work," it was noted, as was the fact that midday dinner was sacrosant. "No sandwiches would do Jim," someone mentioned. "He always had to have a proper dinner, usually in McTernan's along with a couple of bottles of Guinness."

McTernan's was Jims 'local', and much of that building today has his work in it. Walls knocked, others built, and girders raised. All part of the job for a big man in what was then a small town. Jim, and Tony, were big men, with big hands. "They knew work, they were building before there were hydraulic hoists and mixing cement with shovels before the bulk deliveries came along."

Fr Supple celebrated the Requiem Mass, recalling the image he had of Jim regularly at Sunday Mass, his preferred place beside where the Baptismal Font is. "He was always faithful to this church, always faithful to the Sacraments," he told the congregation. "In his life he gave testimony to the Christian family, and through his hard work and industry he was an unfailing provider for his family."

Fr Supple noted how two and a half years ago, Jim's life took on what he termed 'a new apostolate, the apostolate of suffering', following his incapacitation by a stroke. "Jim bore the frustration of his illness with Christian courage and fortitude," he said. "And that suffering became redemptive, not only for himself, but for others too. His suffering, like that of Christ, became a source of blessing, for his family and for the whole community."

Jim is survived by his wife Ethna, and their children Seamus, Michael, David, Mary, Suzanne, William, Paul, Dermot and Annie, along with their grandchildren and extended family.

From soon after he was stricken, Ethna had Jim brought home to Old Kilcullen, where she nursed him herself, giving him twenty-four/seven care through his remaining time in this life. It wasn't easy, and it made her almost reclusive in a town where she had always been visible, cycling each day to the shops, being involved in every charity and fundraising event that was happening.

"I loved him, that was all," she shrugged when somebody complimented her as we all listened to the piper and watched the preparations to bring Jim into the church that last time.

And that's what it is all about, isn't it? We could talk for as long as we like of the physical or intellectual 'monuments' left after a person's life's work, or the 'redemptive' value of his suffering. But Ethna's comment is the most important story in the life and death of the late Jim Dempsey.

To be loved is the best reason to live.

Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam.

Brian Byrne.