Eulogy for Paddy Walls, Died 4th Sept 2010, Aged 49.

Delivered at his cremation in Cork on 9th Sept 2010.

"Let's have a quick 60 before we go" said Paddy. The house was silent and completely bare. The removal men had long since removed themselves and we were about to leave Carrickbrack House for good. This was the house I grew up in with Paddy.....Paddy, my big brother, a huge and ever-present influence in my journey to adulthood. Now we were leaving the only home I had ever known, but Paddy wanted 'a quick 60' before we left.

'A quick 60' was nothing more than a game we played in the back garden involving a football and a shopping trolley. Most respectable homes in Dublin at the time had at least one shopping trolley in the garden. We had 2....but kept one hidden behind the hedge so as not to lord it over our neighbours, 'the Beirnes', who had to make do with a Superquinn basket which they kept all their tennis balls in.

'A quick 60' involved one of us crossing the ball 60 times in a row. The other person had to try and head it in to the shopping trolley, more difficult than it sounds, believe me.

Well, the record had stood at 14 for weeks now despite hours spent trying to break it in between packing up the house.

Our final 'quick 60' in the back garden of Carrickbrack House has since passed into legend. With one cross left, the sun setting and the house already locked up, the score stood on a record-equalling fourteen. I crossed the final ball.....and Paddy soared into the air like a man desperate to catch a glimpse over the wall of his neighbour's wife sunbathing......and planted that ball squarely into the shopping trolley.

It was a glorious and perfect way to say goodbye to our childhood home. It also reminded me what it was exactly about my big brother that so inspired me growing up. Quite simply, Paddy always delivered when it really mattered.

Paddy always caught a fish when we went up to Howth Harbour when the mackerel were running. Paddy always hit the shot of the day at Deer Park golf course and he made the pressure putts more often than not. Paddy always got the sparrow first time with the catapult. Paddy always chose exactly the right moment to click the shutter and capture the perfect shot.

And Paddy always got the girl. Not just any girl, but the best girl, the one that everybody else wanted........something which, I am pleased to say, he continued to do right throughout his final years.

I suppose you could say he had a great sense of timing, an essential characteristic if you're going to be funny. And Paddy was funny. I remember another occasion in that same back garden watching Paddy expertly direct the football right into the middle of the enormous 3 metre x 2 metre dining room window. The noise of a thousand pieces of falling glass was quickly replaced with a  stunned silence. Three, four, five seconds passed and then Paddy, with perfect timing, said "Do you know how much out of 10 I hate that ?"

Paddy's sense of direction wasn't quite as good as his sense of timing. In particular he seemed to struggle to locate his own bedroom after visiting the bathroom in the middle of the night. Now while this might have produced a night of excited anticipation for any of Siobhan's friends who were staying over, it probably only further added to Paddy's morning-after confusion as he tried to piece together the hazy memories of another night.

When people hear of the death of someone not directly related to them...the mother of a work colleague for example, they tend to try and pigeon-hole that death. It's not malicious, it's just how we cope and how we explain the world to ourselves. Like..... "Ah, your mother was 87? At least she had a good innings." Or if a person led a troubled life then maybe their death is somehow more acceptable than that of an untroubled person. We think we can measure a person's contribution to this world just by looking at their achievements or their 'happiness barometer.'

I don't agree. I think the true value of a person's life is measured by what others learn from them. Paddy's true beauty often got obscured by his pain. But the fact that his most beautiful traits endured despite that pain.....to me that's what makes those traits even more powerful. I learned a fortune from Paddy. From watching him and listening to him; from his successes and from his mistakes.

Paddy taught me about patience.......the patience required to catch a fish every time, and the patience to know that the answers might not come in this life.

He knew how to catch a fish.

Paddy taught me about gentleness. He had compassion for the smallest and most helpless. His love for animals was well known and and the names Snoopy, Jessie and Cara would feature prominently in his biography. My mother-in-law from South Africa was struck by Paddy's gentleness. She had been so taken by the beauty of the fuschias growing wild all over Kerry that Paddy picked a number of slips and then spent a long time wrapping and packing them carefully in newspaper so as to keep them from dying on the journey back to South Africa. Needless to say, the fuschia slips survived because not only was Paddy gentle, but because when he decided to do something he generally did it very well.

Paddy taught me about fear. I think he had a lot of it and I think it paralysed him. Where it came from we can only speculate, but I know for certain that he doesn't have it any more.

Paddy taught me about loyalty. At the age of 9 I tried to switch from supporting Leeds Utd to supporting Man Utd. I was distraught because Leeds had slipped to 5th place in the top division. Paddy gently explained to me the importance of sticking with a cause through thick and thin. "Hang in there" he implored me, "it's only a matter of time before Leeds start winning again." And so I did. I hung in there and waited........and 34 years later I'm still waiting.

Thanks for that Paddy.

The flip side of loyalty is stubbornness and, oh yes, Paddy could be stubborn. Back in 1978 he told anyone who would listen that U2 were overrated and that the Bogey Boys were much better. This was back when U2 were playing the Community Centre in Howth. In 2010 Paddy would still have told you that U2 are overrated and that the Howth Community Centre is too good for them.

Paddy even taught me about girls. I remember as a teenager feeling down cos' I couldn't get a girl. So I consulted The Master. "Look at how you make us, your family, laugh John. Just be yourself, make the girls laugh and they'll fall for you."  Well, whaddya know? It worked ! Girls have been laughing at me for nearly 30 years now.

And finally, Paddy taught me about love. He taught me that some people just have that special quality about them that makes others want to love them. Paddy had it. He drew people in. They couldn't help themselves. I sometimes think he was the only one who couldn't see it.

But he had plenty of love to give, especially, I found in his later years. I know I felt the warmth and intensity of Paddy's love these last few years. I don't know if he had mellowed or what, but he just seemed able to express himself better than he used to.

And he knew how take a pic...Table Mountain on fire 2006

Since the weekend I've been trawling through my memories of you Paddy...and I have to say I am astounded at just how many there are. You have been a massive part of my life, maybe bigger than I realised, certainly bigger than you realised. I suspect a lot of people here today feel the same. Your impact on this world was much greater than you ever gave yourself credit for. You only have to look at the havoc you created when you finally jumped on that bus last Saturday night.

Speaking of buses.......while Colette, Siobhan and Christine were sitting having lunch just outside Tralee on Saturday, waiting for Paddy to be transferred to Cork......his ambulance sped past them at high speed. With a sense of timing that Paddy would have been proud of Colette turned to to the others and invoked the spirit of Eric Morecambe and one of Paddy's all-time favourite jokes; "He won't sell many ice creams going at that speed !"

Sorry Christine...not an ice cream van.

Paddy wasn't used to ambulances or hospitals...but he did spend the first few weeks of his life in hospital. Our mother had had a minor complication after Paddy's birth and so needed to stay in hospital while they sorted it out. When we asked her why Paddy had stayed in hospital with her and not come home she uttered one of her famous 'Ma-isms': "You have to remember", she said, "that Paddy was very young when he was born."

As it turned out Paddy was also very young when he died.

I wish we had time for 'a quick 60' right now Pads. I reckon we'd break the record again.......even with you lying down.

Thank you for everything you taught me Paddy. Goodbye....for now. We will always love you; our brother, our father, our lover, our son, and our friend. It has been a privilege to know you.