Inspiration

Anniversary

Today is the first anniversary of my big brother’s passing. We interred his ashes in the local graveyard yesterday. It has been a tough week for my family and me. It’s been a tough year.

He died after a short but vicious illness that we could not have predicted. He was only 53 years old. His death came far, far too soon. And even during the years he had, much of his time was spent contending with the draining, exhausting illness known as M.E. But he had made his life so rich and so full in the short time he had that he has been an incredible inspiration to me, particularly over the last twelve months, but through all the years of his life as well.

Lorcan McNamee

Lorcan McNamee was a teacher first and foremost. Most of his working life he spent teaching languages; English, Spanish, Portuguese. He was a polyglot, obviously. Even at the time he died, he was working on learning French and German. But he taught other things too. Most notably, salsa! He taught salsa dancing to all comers in a church hall in our home town.

We, his family, stood for two hours greeting those who had come to grieve with us at his funeral. Many, many of the hundreds who came were his students or his former students, including his dance students and a host of people from Ukraine and many other parts of the world. And so many people from Spanish speaking countries who had been welcomed to our town and helped by Lorcan and the Sligo Spanish Society, which he was instrumental in organising.

I will be honest with you, dear reader, the sheer numbers and the obvious and genuine emotion expressed by these people was something of a shock to me. I knew, of course that he was an excellent teacher, that was not the shock. But I had known so little of the key part he played in the lives of so many through his involvement in all of these different activities, organisations and communities. To me, of course, he was just my big brother. He always would be that to me and always will and I think that prevented me from seeing all the rest. Additionally, he was never one to toot his own horn, except when it was beneficial to a cause. For instance when he led the charge to gain fuller rights and benefits from the government and unions for language tutors. Indeed, a representative of his union spoke at his funeral, reading a glowing tribute from the union’s president. Lorcan had told everyone about the fact that he would be protesting at Government Buildings and that he was interviewed for the news. Such pride I felt then, especially as someone also working in an education sector ravaged by real-terms cuts for decades.

Lorcan was an author. He published two novels and several poems in collections over the years. You can find his novels, A Year in Lisbon and Be Do Go Have here. He had a blog, on which he liked to post things about media he had enjoyed or wanted to to talk about. Never would he be lost for something interesting to say about the latest movies he had seen and the books he had been reading. This man had a first class honours degree in English and three more degrees that he had picked up over the years so you know the blog is worth a read. We’re currently working on getting that back up and running. When we do, I’ll post a link to it here.

You might be starting to see a pattern now.

I think some of the connections are genetic. Both he and I love to travel, are crazy about all sorts of food, enjoy really good science fiction (Iain M Banks was a particular shared pleasure,) we’re both really bald. I was told by his neighbour yesterday that, if I just lost some weight, I would look just like him. All this is true. But why I am writing this post today is the effect he has had on me over the last few years.

This blog would not exist without Lorcan. I started it because I was looking for a creative outlet, mainly for me but for anyone else who might have an interest in the same things as me. That’s very much how Lorcan approached his blog.

I have written several books. I don’t think I would have done that if not for him, his encouragement and his example. I should probably get around to publishing them too… Still you can check at least one of them out here on this blog, serialised with a chapter coming out every few days. Lorcan self-published his books because he very much wanted to see his own work in print. I think it took a lot of guts to do that, have them printed, arrange his own launch parties (I was very proud to introduce him at a couple of those even though no-one knew who I was) and everything else that goes into it. And of course, to write them in the first place. I feel very close to him when I think about these things.

Most recently, after the funeral and the avalanche of grief and love from all of these people who had been brought together by my brother in different ways, who had been made into little communities and who came to learning and creativity because of him, I thought, I could try a bit of that. So, in the smallest way possible, I did.

I started off by joining the discord server of my local game shop here in Bangor, Replay. There, I started looking for players who might want to try out a new RPG. Because I’m not a salsa dancer, I’m a GM at heart. From that, five mostly strangers came together to play a few sessions of Spire in the wonderfully welcoming Replay store where they have lots of gaming tables that you can use for free. That was Tables and Tales in a proto-community form. Not long after that, friends of the blog, Isaac and Tommy, suggested that we set up a local TTRPG community and I leaped at the chance, knowing that that is what I had been wanting all along. I wanted to try to emulate my brother in that all important way; by connecting people and helping in some small way to bring them together to do a thing they love. We are still a relatively small group but have been growing bit by bit and I genuinely love to see it.

You know, it just occurred to me that I might owe Lorcan more when it comes to my RPG interests. He might even have been instrumental in getting me into RPGs in the first place. Probably the first game I played that had any RPG elements was City of Thieves, by Ian Livingstone, a Fighting Fantasy Gamebook from 1983. Of course, I nicked off Lorcan’s bookshelf, didn’t I?

I have not done my brother justice in this short post at all. He was far more amazing than my meagre powers are able to convey, I didn’t even mention that he was the most incredible uncle to our two nieces, that he was an accomplished translator, that he earned a Master’s Degree in Spanish Studies posthumously, that he was an art lover and the origin of all my best musical tastes, that he was a podcaster, that he was the first in our family to get a tattoo, that he will be missed forever by all of those who knew him and that the world is better for having had him in it.

Thanks for reading about my brother today, dear reader. Normal service will resume in the next post.