logo
Funeral of elderly Cork couple found dead at their home hears they were ‘inseparable'

Funeral of elderly Cork couple found dead at their home hears they were ‘inseparable'

Irish Independent19 hours ago
Michael (Noel) O'Sullivan and Anne (Née Ryng) were remembered as people who were deeply grounded in their religion and had a love of all things Irish.
The Mass, which took place in the Sacred Heart Church in the village, situated just east of the city boundary, saw friends, family, and neighbours paying their respects to the well-respected couple, with mourners offering their condolences to the family ahead of the ceremony.
The couple's coffins lay side by side on the altar, accompanied by a picture of the pair, who have been remembered fondly since their death on Monday.
Offerings brought to the altar at the funeral Mass included a crucifix to represent the couple's 'deep Catholic faith', and a photograph of Glounthane village to represent their love of their home place.
'A History of Ireland' by Robert Key was also offered, as a symbol of the couple's love of Irish history, politics, and Gaelic.
Ahead of the All-Ireland semi-final tomorrow between Cork and Dublin, the church heard that the couple loved Gaelic Games 'but there was only one game for them, and that was hurling,' as a Cork jersey was brought up.
A radio was also presented as the Mass was told 'they loved nothing more than listening to matches, which prompted much debate and discussion.'
A reading from the first letter of St John - which focuses on the need for love and God's love for his people - was read out, while hymns were also sung during the mass, which was well attended.
'Ann so often had a phrase she used to repeat, 'thank God we don't know what the future brings', said Fr Aidan Vaughan, 'but God knows, and God is good.
'She was so prepared for the will of God, whatever form it would take, because of her faith in almighty God.
'I notice there's no number on that jersey. I know that it meant so much to them, they were so invested in the traditions and games of Ireland.
'They were inseparable. They were united in life, and they were united in death.'
The Mass also remembered the other deceased members of the O'Sullivan and Ryng families and heard about Ann's late brother Eolan, who spent his life as a Capuchin monk, before returning to Cork to be cared for by his sister before his death.
'Ann and Michael are still part of that communion of saints,' said Fr Vaughan, who concluded by saying: 'Thank God we don't know what's coming in the future, but God knows, and God loves us.'
"To see two coffins laid out on the altar is a sight we don't see too often in this parish,' said Parish priest Fr Damien O'Mahony, with the former Bishop of Cork and Ross, John Buckley, also in attendance.
'On a personal note, I recently celebrated the 30th anniversary of my ordination. I was doing a tally of the cards, and I came across this card. You might recognise the writing,' said the priest to the congregation.
"'Fr Damien, wishing you many more years of faithful service'. When I saw that, I got a lump in my throat, even reading it now.
'We've lost two people of faith, two people who have given so much to their families and the parish faith community as well.
'It was a sad call I got the other day. Sometimes when I get called, I don't know what's ahead of me, but they're together, and that's a nice image of them, together in life, and after life.
Fr O'Mahony thanked the families of the deceased for their support and help since the death of the pair, before finishing by saying: 'most of all, we thank Michael and Anne, for being Michael and Anne,' to a standing ovation.
Bishop Buckley concluded the Mass and offered his own memories of the couple.
Foul play has been ruled out in relation to the deaths of the couple, whose bodies were found at the foot of their stairs at around 5pm on Monday by a relative. They were formally pronounced dead by a local GP.
Michael and Anne O'Sullivan were laid to rest together at St Joseph's Cemetery in Little Island.
Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

Obituary: Brother Kevin Crowley, Capuchin friar who fed and clothed generations of people who fell through the cracks
Obituary: Brother Kevin Crowley, Capuchin friar who fed and clothed generations of people who fell through the cracks

Irish Independent

time5 hours ago

  • Irish Independent

Obituary: Brother Kevin Crowley, Capuchin friar who fed and clothed generations of people who fell through the cracks

Brother Kevin Crowley, a man of profound goodness and faith, who died on July 2, need have no fear of judgment. The Capuchin friar, who died in his 91st year, lived the values of his Catholic faith right to his fingertips. Through his work in the Capuchin Day Centre in Dublin, he fed and clothed generations of people who either fell through the cracks or the rest of society preferred to forget. 'And we never asked any questions,' was his unshakeable philosophy. As prosperity ebbed and flowed, the need for the vital services in Dublin's north inner city never eased. With more families experiencing homelessness, Brother Kevin and the centre were there to offer a hot meal or a food parcel — and respect, dignity and the knowledge that someone cared. As the cash machines pinged on Dublin's most fashionable streets in the run-up to Christmas every year, the queues for the Capuchin food vouchers grew longer and longer. The last person who would want to be eulogised would be Kevin Crowley. The only reason he even had a public profile was that fundraisers managed to convince him he was the face of the work, and people wanted to donate because they admired him. He was born William, in Enniskeane, Co Cork, in 1935, and his parents, William and Catherina (O'Donovan), had him baptised in the local parish church. Those were hungry days when the scars of the Civil War were still raw, and there were real fears that the new Free State might fail. After schooling locally, he worked for Córas Iompair Éireann (CIÉ) as a railway inspector, but he felt deeply the call of a religious vocation. It must have seemed like an act of insanity at that time, to leave a comfortable job for life to volunteer for a life of perpetual poverty. When he announced his shift in career at the boarding house where he lodged, the bean an tí confidently predicted he wouldn't last a week. But a gentle hand always seemed to guide Kevin, and he recently celebrated 67 years as a religious brother. He entered the Capuchin Postulancy in Co Kilkenny on April 7, 1958 — Easter Monday of that year. Before he entered, he called into a bookmaker to put a bet on a horse. Years later, he would recall with glee how he never found out how the horse fared, since radios and newspapers were forbidden in the community. Regardless of his fortunes on the racecourse, he found in his ministry a life dedicated to service that brought him priceless happiness. In 1968, he was asked to take over the running of a clothing guild on Church Street in Dublin to collect unwanted clothes for those in need. As he watched grown men rummaging through bins to try to feed their families, he quickly realised something more was needed, and the soup kitchen was born. There were brief stints at other Capuchin projects around the country, but his heart was always in the north inner city, and the proud Corkman quickly took to the Dublin wit. He was there to defend the church when he thought it was getting an unfair lashing Brother Kevin would always say that the people he served were not subjects of charity, but people with hopes and dreams in need of respect and dignity. He could be caustic about politicians, but saw that they could be a means to an end, and he would hold them to public commitments to do more to help the homeless. While he never gave in to ­despair about the challenges facing the church, he was there to defend it when he thought it was getting an unfair lashing. When a left-wing TD told the Dáil that she thought the church should be 'consigned to the dustbin of history', he told an interviewer that history would 'put her in the bin'. It was typical of his style of straight-talking and went hand in hand with his determination to never take no for an answer. Whenever a politician called, Brother Kevin was happy to oblige for a photo opportunity, but he would also bend their ear, and usually got what he wanted. He was passionately pro-life, and until recent years was a feature of the annual Pro-Life Campaign dinner. A disciple of St Francis, like his hero Pope Francis, he saw care for the vulnerable as part of the same Christian witness: whether the poor, the sick, the unborn, the homeless, the powerless, the addict or the elderly, he was a powerful advocate for those he saw as having no voice. Brother Kevin was never robust of health, but he wasn't one to mind himself too much either. He was awake each day at around 4.30am, and after going to the kitchens to turn everything on, it was back to the friary for two hours of prayer — sometimes, his confreres say, peppered with a well-deserved snooze in the chapel. He was not in thrall of ­celebrity, and the story is told about the day a famous folk singer arrived to announce he was donating the proceeds of one of his gigs to the Capuchin Day Centre. Brother Kevin had no idea who it was, but professed himself to be suitably grateful. He was proud of what his mission achieved, but depressed that it was still necessary. A crowning moment was when Pope Francis visited in 2018. As the papal motorcade made its way to the centre, he turned to a colleague and said: 'I never thought I'd see the day when the Pope would be coming to Bow Street.' We all know the vocations crisis facing the Catholic Church in Ireland, and it would be easy to see this as a mere sociological reality. But the pragmatic truth is that the fall in vocations means we will no longer have people such as Brother Kevin — people who will willingly embrace a life of poverty, putting their own needs aside to live their life for and alongside those most in need. His loss, and the loss of such people, will be felt far and wide.

Sarah Carey: As its 100th anniversary sails into view, the BBC's ‘Shipping Forecast' is the ultimate in comfort radio
Sarah Carey: As its 100th anniversary sails into view, the BBC's ‘Shipping Forecast' is the ultimate in comfort radio

Irish Independent

time5 hours ago

  • Irish Independent

Sarah Carey: As its 100th anniversary sails into view, the BBC's ‘Shipping Forecast' is the ultimate in comfort radio

I'm jumping the gun a bit, but there's a centenary coming up in October, and it's of global significance. It will be 100 years since the first broadcast of the Shipping Forecast on the BBC World Service/Radio 4. I'm part of the unquantified Irish BBC Radio 4 community. We don't appear in the JNLRs, but I've always wondered how many of us there are out there.

Eye on Nature: ‘Nesting blue tits have comandeered my letterbox again'
Eye on Nature: ‘Nesting blue tits have comandeered my letterbox again'

Irish Times

time6 hours ago

  • Irish Times

Eye on Nature: ‘Nesting blue tits have comandeered my letterbox again'

Blue tits built their nest in my outdoor metal letter box in late April. It took three days' hard work. Four of the subsequent six chicks survived and left the nest on June 4th. This is the fourth time my letter box has been commandeered by these little birds. Frank Russell, Co Clare Now that the nest is no longer in use and contains neither eggs nor young, it is okay to photograph it. Blue tits can nest in a variety of habitats, from woodlands to gardens, in a suitable crevice or hollow in trees or walls. They regularly use nest boxes and obviously your letterbox fits the bill for your local birds. While their average lifespan is three years, the oldest known individual was nine years old, so maybe it's the same pair back each year. Navelwort. Photograph supplied by Larry Dunne These growths are common on stone walls near Our Lady's Island in south Co Wexford. What are they called? Larry Dunne, Wexford This is navelwort (Umbilicus rupestris) , which grows on stone walls and non-calcareous rocks. It is a native perennial and common except in the centre of Ireland. In his book Ireland's Generous Nature, Pater Wyse Jackson says navelwort was formerly used medicinally for a variety of ailments, though in Co Clare it was reputed to only cure Protestants. READ MORE Marsh fritillary butterfly. Photograph supplied by P Kelly I recently saw this butterfly on geranium in my garden. Could it possibly be a marsh fritillary? P Kelly, Dunmore, Co Kilkenny It could indeed. Marsh fritillaries cannot be confused with any other Irish butterfly. Our Irish population is genetically unique within Europe. While adults will fly widely over an area, breeding is confined to grassland areas where the foodplant of the caterpillars (the devils-bit scabious) makes up at least a 25 per cent density of plants. Adults fly from mid-May onwards and will visit nectar-rich flowers for sustenance to give them strength and energy for the breeding process. They overwinter as caterpillars. It is listed for protection under the EU Habitats Directive 1992. A mermaid's purse - a dogfish egg case. Photograph supplied by Aoife Somerset What species is this mermaid's purse? It was found on Five Fingers beach near Malin Head in Co Donegal. Aoife Somerset (6) Mermaid's purse is the name given to the egg cases of skates and ground sharks, which contain the developing young. Those of the dogfish – which technically are described as ground sharks – have long curly tendrils at the four corners for wrapping around seaweed when they are laid. When ready, the young fish slips out through a slit in the side and the empty egg case is then washed up on the shore after stormy weather disentangles it from the seaweed. Those of the lesser-spotted dogfish are 5cm-7cm long; those of the large-spotted Dogfish are 8cm-10cm long. A measurement of the egg case would be needed to definitely know which one it is, but the lesser-spotted one is the more common. Pipistrelle bat. Photograph supplied by Ken Myler This bat recently wandered into my bedroom. It fitted comfortably into an 8cm diameter glass and scared the wits out of my wife. Is it a pipistrelle? Ken Myler I'd say it did, if she went to drink out of the glass and found the wandering bat comfortably ensconced inside. We have three species of pipistrelle bat, all of which have short, broad ears and a combined body and tail length of less than 8cm. It is impossible to identify from your picture taken from the back but if it has its summer maternity quarters in your house, it is most likely a pipistrelle. The common pipistrelle likes buildings of stone construction, while the soprano pipistrelle prefers buildings of brick construction. Please submit your nature query, observation, or photo, with a location, via or by email to weekend@

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into a world of global content with local flavor? Download Daily8 app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store