The end of an Irish tune

A pub can be such a sad and happy place. On one side of the pub, a group of reunited college friends told loud stories and laughed louder. On the other side, my childhood friend Jim and his family gathered around Jim’s uncle Nick, sick with cancer, and they knew that this was his last night with them. It was Nick’s idea to come to his favorite pub, where he was determined to spend his final hours laughing and telling stories. He was too weak even to lift a pint of ale, he managed a few swallows but nothing more. Nick’s voice was weak, and he couldn’t muster the strength to tell long-winded stories like he used to, but merely mentioning names and places was enough to flood everyone with nostalgia. Towards the end he started to babble meaningless phrases and we were reminded of the melancholic reality before us.

Suddenly, Nick sat up boldly and addressed his brother (Jim’s father) in a clear, business-like voice, “You know how to fix that plumbing in your basement don’t you? You need to get a 2” NPT flanged coupling….” He described in great detail what needed to be done – Nick was a plumber, you see.

He stopped. He dropped his head for a moment as if drifting away to another place. He smiled and looked up. Reverting back to his childhood in Ireland, he hummed a children’s tune. He burst into song with an Irish voice long forgotten. The family joined him, and soon the whole bar was singing or humming along. Nick only recalled the last line of the song, but he sang it over and over again, and finally he stood up and danced with his eyes full of laughter and we sang and wept with joy and sorrow. Then he stopped, hugged his brother, and died.