BY JOHN FITZGERALD
Callan witnessed a sad farewell last week.
Amid pouring rain and a wind that fanned autumn leaves across darkened West Street, hundreds of grieving friends queued outside the funeral home. They had gathered to say goodbye to Tommy Cuddihy.
They recalled Tommy (66) as honest, kind, a lover of nature, and the “soul of wit.” He had lived at Cashel Avenue, Kilkenny, and formerly in Green Street, Callan.
Many more paid tribute online or by attending the Requiem Mass in the Church of the Assumption. They spoke of him as having been remarkably conscientious and ever helpful… most visibly in his work career but equally in all his dealings… throughout a life tragically cut short on October 24.th
They shared the happiest of memories…of Tommy’s time in Chadwick’s of Kilkenny, Avonmore Home & Farm, and the Co-op Store in Callan, and the countless occasions that he had brightened up a gathering, whether of family members, friends or sporting people, with his gentle but deeply insightful wit.
I was in the same class as Tommy from the beginning of primary school in the Callan Convent right up to Third Year in secondary at the CBS.
Even back then, he could enliven what might otherwise be a dull or unappealing situation or atmosphere.
My earliest school memory of Tommy is clear in my mind owing to an historic association. The teacher of First Class, Sister Camillus, (later known as Sister Nóirín) surprised us all with an announcement that she had bought bulls eyes from Madge Kelly’s shop for the class.
This was to celebrate the demolition of Nelson’s Pillar in Dublin the day before. Unfortunately, there weren’t enough sweets to go around. Some pupils got two or three, others five or six and some got none.
Anyway, Tommy was lucky enough to get a few bulls eyes, which he promptly shared among the class. It might not have been a huge event in the great scheme of life but it demonstrated that he had a big heart even as a seven-year-old.
In secondary school, he was the one who injected humour into just about any situation, whether in class or break-time. I remember a day in Second Year when a teacher was droning on about some obscure historical episode and trying, with limited success, to get our attention. As a last resort, or so it seemed, he said, close to the end of the lesson: “Well, Tommy, what do you think?”
He said this, we assumed, because he knew Tommy would say something to get things (somehow) back on track…or at least refocus our attention.
A few years later, in 1978, I was in the Co-op store in Callan when Tommy also worked there.
His father Paddy had worked for decades in the Co-op and was an immensely popular man in the locality. Like Tommy, he didn’t have far to go for the lunch break, with the house just across the street.
Tommy’s mother, Josephine, better known as Babe, would have the kettle on. Widely respected in Callan, she excelled at recreational landscape painting. Tommy himself would later develop a keen interest in art and sculpture.
He certainly went the extra mile to keep customers happy. Almost from the week when he started at the Co-op Tommy won their trust and respect. He showed a genuine concern and interest in their prospective purchases, as he located the requested item from the vast array of merchandise.
When he first arrived at the store he compiled detailed lists to keep track of the bewildering range of paints, nuts, bolts, pottery, plumbing, farm tools, electrical equipment, timber, iron, animal feeds, and a host of other displays, and there was no computer to assist. The rest of the staff deferred to his skill and the “handle” he had on running the store.
In his free time, he played golf, pool and badminton, or the odd game of billiards in the Town Hall, when he wasn’t out meeting friends for a laugh or a get-together.
My own father spoke highly of Tommy as someone who’d be missed if he left the Co-op. He did leave, to further his career, and the store definitely missed him.
But the Co-op’s loss was a welcome gain for Chadwick’s of Kilkenny, where he drew upon his valuable experience at the Co-op, built on it, and proved to be a top-class addition to the team at his new posting.
Even as he excelled at his job, melding efficiency with affability and an uncanny knack for keeping customers happy, the wit that many of us had seen in his school days never diminished.
Lunch breaks at Chadwick’s could turn into nail-biting poker sessions. Vegas was nothing to the hands that were dealt and the moves witnessed as Tommy played the game.
He loved nature too, and at the Requiem Mass, his son Tom recalled that the family knew the name of just about every bird, bush and tree, thanks to all the walks with their father along riversides, through fields and down rustic laneways.
He liked the sound of birdsong: woodland tranquility was a pleasant contrast to work and the chores of life. He had a superb knowledge of anatomy also and could name all the bones in the body with ease.
Though a proverbial “open book” in his dealings with workmates and customers, and in wider society, he kept his cards close to his chest at the poker table. Most days nobody could outwit him and winning came naturally.
Tommy played the game of life with equal skill and foresight… but with the utmost decency and consideration for others. He was an exemplary father and a loving husband. Several families and countless friends felt the sadness of his passing.
There was an outpouring of support for his wife Kay, who’s recovering from the dreadful accident, for their sons Tom and Simon and daughter Ciara, for Tommy’s sister Joan and his
brothers, Pa, Joe, Martin, and Seamus.
Tears flowed at the Requiem Mass as the celebrant took us back over the decades of a life cut short. He alluded to a sorrow that no words could express. In the congregation, there was shock and disbelief… mingled with the joy of recollection. Amid grief, there was hope.
A new life awaited Tommy…in a world elsewhere: Promotion for a life well lived.
The choir sang a heavenly hymn as we said goodbye to the man with the kind heart and the lovely smile.
Tommy was pre-deceased by his parents Patrick and Josephine (Babe) Cuddihy. Deeply missed by his beloved wife Kay (née O’Brien), his loving children Simon, Tom and Ciara and their partners. Cherished by his sister Joan and his brothers Joe, Martin, Pa and Seamus and their families. Sadly missed by Kay’s brothers, Simon, John, Oliver and Michael and their families. Also his many friends and work colleagues.
