As 16-year-old Eamon Kavanagh’s plain wooden coffin was wheeled down the aisle at the end of his funeral, his mother gently stroked a brass horseshoe attached to its lid.
A picture of dignity and composure in that supreme moment of goodbye, this was as close as Jenny Kavanagh could get to her lost boy and the memories he has bequeathed his family.
During much of the Mass, Mrs Kavanagh sat in the front pew of the tiny 200-year-old St Lazarian's church in the Carlow village of Drumphea, and held a colour photograph of her boy. Beside her on one side sat her husband Jim and, on the other, their four other children – daughter Lauren, and sons Jamie, Sean and Evan.
The family’s grief at the death of Eamon has overshadowed, though probably compounded, turmoil of an altogether different nature that has engulfed them.
On Friday last Jim Kavanagh was sentenced to three years in prison after pleading guilty to animal cruelty, and was banned from ever keeping animals again. In a scene described in court as biblical, in April 2015 animal inspectors found 340 dogs and 11 horses, in varying states of filth and emaciation, held in cramped pens and surrounded by the corpses of other animals.
Jenny Kavanagh, who also pleaded guilty, received a one-year suspended sentence.
In the early hours of Sunday, Eamonn, who was not old enough to have a driving licence or be insured, was behind the wheel of a car with four friends and was driving down a boreen off Mount Leinster when he struck the concrete wall of a cattle grill bridge. He was killed instantly.
On Wednesday, in unseasonal bright sunshine set against the looming backdrop of a bronzed Mount Leinster, close to 1,000 people, many of them weeping teenagers, lined the road outside St Lazarian’s, filled the churchyard and stood in the adjoining cemetery. Inside 300 people filled all the pews.
Photographs
Eamon's coffin entered the church to the strains of Somewhere Over the Rainbow and came to rest in front of the alter, its steps strewn with wreathes and two displays of photographs, snapshots of family life and a teenager's lost world.
Grief was the price to be paid for love, said Father Michael Doyle, the chief celebrant, who was assisted by six priestly colleagues and a Capucian friar, Brother Ignatius, a close friend of the family. Also present was the Rev John Rochford, a Baptist minister from Waterford.
“There can be no brushing over, no whispering or secrets here,” said Fr Doyle, “because, as a family, we are all moved to tears though not as much as Eamon’s parents, Jenny and Jim, his brothers and sister Jamie, Sean, Evan and Lauren.
“The death of a child moves us in a way that words cannot be expressed. Each of us is at a loss as to what to do, what to say...there are so many unanswerable questions, but at this juncture it is more important that we reach out to one and other in compassionate care, in love, prayer and support for one and other.”
Symbols of a young life cut short cruelly spoke of an active young man, fully engaged with life.
There was a riding helmet symbolising his great love of horses and showjumping, a GAA shirt and a boxing glove. There were photographs – of the family, but also of Eamon with his beloved horse PJ and sheepdog Moss.
There was a model tractor, a bag of jellies and a hurley, signed after his death by his friends.
Happy home
Fr Doyle spoke fondly of his close association with the family, whom he said jokingly he had nicknamed the Hill Billies. After marrying Jenny and Jim, he visited their home on many occasions.
“It was always a great joy to visit their home and family,” he said. “I would often visit there because it was a happy home; a home that when you left it, you felt very enriched. It was very obvious it was a place of great love, of joy and much laughter.
“Eamon had a great nature...He was an obvious extrovert and yet he was very sensitive, a lad who prized loyalty. His love for his family and friends, for showjumping and sports are the stuff of legend.”
He was held in great esteem by his peers. “He would have given the famous Roy Rogers or the Lone Ranger a run for their money.”
For a eulogy, a message read on behalf of the family, depicted Eamon as a “lovable rogue with a great sense of fun and a cheeky smile”.
“He was happiest whenever he was with horses and was an absolutely gifted horseman... Eamon was brought up in a very close family, and was a great chap at telling his parents that he loved them.”
He was close to his brothers and sister, and to Aine, a cousin who was like another sister to him, and to his grandmothers. Over the years, through sport and school, he built up a big circle of friends.
Very popular
“He was a very popular young lad...Eamon was a strong, unassuming, outgoing person with a soft word when needed...Eamon loved living near Mount Leinster and would travel for miles with his pony PJ and sheepdog Moss bringing in the sheep.
“He was a young lad who loved nature. Eamon will be sadly missed by his family, friends and all who knew him. All we can do now is remember him with love, and think back fondly of the memories that he brought into our lives.
“Good night Eamon; rest in peace, young man. We will never forget you.”
The coffin left the church to a soloist singing In The Arms of an Angel, wheeled by Eamon's siblings and his parents, Jenny fingering the brass horse shoe and holding herself together as many present wept without restraint.
