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The death has occurred of
Brenda McGrane
(née Hand)
EULOGY FOR BRENDA MARY ALICE HAND MCGRANE
Brenda Mary Alice Hand McGrane, otherwise known as Mum, was born in 1933, the only daughter of Alice and Alban Hand. She was the quintessential ‘middle child’ between the older extremely talented Des and the younger pet of the family, Alan. No doubt that was the whole key to Mum’s extraordinarily strong personality as she strove to be noticed too.I remember she used to frequently sing around the house the song ‘Some People’ from the musical ‘Gypsy’, giving Ethel Merman a run for her money. Those who might remember this song know that it’s all about not settling for the ordinary, the banal, the humdrum but to strive to live a life less ordinary. And although Mum never achieved widespread fame, she managed to carve out a respected reputation for herself locally with her beguiling and totally unique artistic talents. She was the recipient of a few awards and exhibited in the RHA. She always encouraged the younger generation to take up art and was delighted with her nephew Brian carrying on the artistic family flag. She also loved playing the piano and often lamented her inability to emulate the superior musical talent of Des while he in turn tried to emulate her in painting. And from her mother too she inherited a gift with words and poetry. We used to joke in the family that Mum had a song for every situation in life. She must have had an immense catalogue of musical numbers in her head and never, ever forgot the lyrics. When life got tough, as it frequently did in our family, she would burst into a chorus of ‘Everything’s coming up Roses!’ I think it’s fair to say that Mum had a rough enough ride through life. She lost her father at 16 which led to her being taken out of school due to lack of financial support. She spent the rest of her life trying to compensate for that fact by attending art school at night and amassing a vast collection of what used to be euphemistically termed ‘good books’. After the tragic early death of younger brother Alan when she was twenty-six she left for America in 1960 and spent five years working as secretary to the chief librarian of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, one of her happiest times ever. It is a testimony to Mum that her boss and his wife remained faithful friends with her for the rest of her life. The terror of being stuck in Manhattan during the ‘Cuban Missile Crisis’ drove Mum back home to the aul’ sod and within a year she found herself married to a dashing young heraldic artist from Bray, Rory McGrane, otherwise known as Dad, and together they embarked on a shared Vie Bohémienne; wherefore the rest of her life was played out against a constant booming background of Puccini and Verdi thoughtfully provided by Dad on his ultra-powerful Electrostatics speakers. Down through the years Mum was tireless in her loving care of Dad and the three of us. She was a huge support to Ros and I in our musical careers and ceaselessly encouraged Fred in his IT studies. She frequently downed tools to run to the aid of all the elderly relatives who needed help. She looked after her mother with such goodwill right up to the moment of Lala’s death. Her nieces and nephews Michael, Una, Eithne, Bairbre and Brian also always held a special place in her heart. Although limited by distance and physical frailty she did all she could to spread the loving warmth of her personality to her grandchildren, Saoirse, JD, Beatrice and Albie and her sons-in-law John and Andrea. Anyone who knew Mum knew that she didn’t suffer fools gladly. She was someone who knew her own mind and had her own exacting ideas about how things should be done. I guessthat was the precision of an artist manifesting itself! Being such a tender-hearted person, she would listen patiently to the problems of others and offer consolation and often sage advice. Her fierce sense of family loyalty meant that she wanted to be surrounded by them as much as possible. Of course, I have many great memories of life with Mum but one rather touching one was of how she always made a roast chicken dinner followed by apple crumble and cream every Friday. She knew that it was my favourite dinner for when, as a teenager, I would return home tired on a Friday evening after a frequently demanding piano lesson in the Royal Irish Academy of Music. As that noisy old diesel pulled into Dun Laoghaire station, I knew that she would have this feast waiting for me, no matter what! In the last few years, after Dad died in 2013, Mum’s life became an exhausting battle with arthritis, diabetes, and dementia. Even in her physical and mental infirmity she continued to try to love and support her children, especially poor Fred, whom she is now holding in her arms. As we know, notwithstanding the tireless efforts of the kindly staff at Tara Care Centre, for which we express most grateful thanks, she would constantly demand to be taken home. On Sunday morning last, she finally got her wish. In a blaze of May sunshine, she went home, to a home far grander than Royal Terrace West. I know she would have approved of her new superior abode inhabited by truly ‘all the best people‘! You are back to your old bubbly and enthusiastic self now, Mum and that gives us the greatest joy, a joy which eclipses the sorrow of missing you. To conclude, if I had to describe Mum in one word it would be the word ‘Hope‘. Mum really was the embodiment of Hope. For she always maintained hope during her long life of 87 years- hope in the future, hope in the face of adversity, hope when there was none. By far the greatest hope Mum taught her children was hope in the Resurrection.
Date Published:
Monday 4th May 2020
Date of Death:
Sunday 3rd May 2020