H is for HEATHER

We lived only a few miles apart, both in the country, went to different primary schools, but I didn't know she existed until we moved to our next seats of education. Both in the same city, for me it was the Royal, her choice was the Girls' High School. Many years later both would join to form a new school under the name of the former.
We had several things in common. We both were the same age, had an older sister with whom we sang, had passed the eleven plus, loved football and had learned to play the guitar. Yet we differed in as many areas as we were similar. She had a younger brother, I had none, she wore glasses, was left-handed, supported Manchester United, had black, curly hair, was on the tall side of short and, of course, was a female.

I first met her at our local Christian Endeavour on a Friday night. She was an effervescent person, full of life, with a big grin and rosy cheeks. Often she would bring her guitar along and help to lead the singing and she had a strong alto harmony voice that kept tune and knew what to sing. Her older sister and mine, who was also called Heather, got along famously and were also the same age as each other so it was not too long before somebody suggested that the two groups of duettists get together and form a quartet. And of course , that is exactly what happened with the two older girls singing the melodies and the two guitarists chiming in with the harmonies. We called ourselves The Eden Four, named after the townland of our church and there followed a couple of years of serious gigs in churches, coffee bars and mission halls and even to my mid-teenage ears it didn't sound too bad. Some folks reckoned that we would have made a good couple and there was more than a hint or suggestion at the time but, in truth, there was never a spark, let alone a flame and we were more than happy just to play music together and to argue about football. Her younger brother was also growing up fast and he and I were becoming firmer and firmer friends, despite his allegiance to his sister's football team.

Then in 1971 came the shock news that the family had decided to emigrate to Australia. Their photograph was splashed over the local newspaper and I remember reading that they would be leaving their cat behind, but little else. And move they did. It was the end of The Eden Four but it was also the end of family friendships built over a long period of time. After they left, Heather consistently wrote to my mum , telling her of their adventures and anxieties in settling on the far side of the world. And then one year, she came back, for a brief visit. I recognized her, but not quite immediately, for those late teenage years often do most to alter our facial appearance. Also, contact lenses now negated the need for the glasses and her tanned skin was foreign to these shores. But her accent gave her away for hidden between her developed antipodean tones were the strains of Derryscallop that had formed her childhood language. And as she talked enthusiastically to all those gathered in the room, she whipped me at chess without almost nonchalantly. What an embarrassment!

Heather continued to write for years, had been through uni, got married and settled, but something had changed. For while she was still the bubbly, energetic person, all was not well. The doctors discovered her tumour after she had experienced some difficulties. It was in an area of the brain where an operation to remove it completely was just not possible. For the next few years, medication continued to give her an almost normal quality of life but the headaches never went away and eventually she succumbed to the inevitable. I regularly keep in touch with the family and her brother has my best friend for over twenty years. And we all miss the infectious, intelligent person that we knew. A year or so ago, her sister came back to these shores to visit and left me with a copy of all the poems Heather had written both before and during her illness. I can think of no better way to finish than with a two verses from one of them, called 'Where is He.'

God's under me to lift me when I'm weak
Often, I know.
I'm angry, life is hard,
The waves are high, I cannot row.
The shore is close, yet far away,
I'll die. All power I lack.
And suddenly I'm on the sand
God's borne me on his back.

God's in my heart and gives me love
I've never known before
I love myself and others
As for God? I do adore
My maker, friend. adviser, helper-
How could I refrain
From loving God with all my heart
And telling you his name?