My aunt passed away on February 19, 2015. She was 91 years old.
I think of Aunt Peg as "Miss Skibbereen." Her memory was sharp and clear to the end. She had so many stories to tell - of her brother Humpsey as a baby, sitting in the dirt by the gate in Derryduff; of Grandmom taking her to Cullomane East, on one of those visits playing with Roggie and Pitchie, on another visit entering her dying grandfather's room; of Granddad pedaling off on his bike to the creamery, rain or shine; of visiting the creamery and getting candy from Abie Jagoe, Granddad's boss; of skipping school to play hooky at Mary Maher's house; of dressing up to visit relatives in Carrigbaun and Adrigole; of sewing dresses with my mother late at night, laughing and giggling, until Grandmom yelled at them to go to bed; of wearing those dresses on Easter Sunday, looking like a million bucks; of a visit to Kenmare for a day at the races with distant cousins; of being a checkout clerk in a grocery store in Toronto; of moving with her family to Connecticut and living near Uncle Dan and Aunt Bea.
Without Aunt Peg there would have been no genealogy endeavor in my family. My one wish is to get it all down on paper.
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