Eamonn O’Donnell always said the greatest gift you can give someone is your time, and by that measure, he gifted many.
The west Belfast man wasn’t one for grand gestures but small acts of service, whether it was collecting a grandchild from school or giving helpful advice.
This advice could range from anything as in-depth as to the existence of God and asking what you feel your purpose is in life, or simply telling you that you needed to “wise up to yourself”.
It all depended on what he thought you needed to hear, or how much caffeine he had consumed on that particular day.
Eamonn was born in 1959 to Edward and Vera O’Donnell and raised in the Cavanmore area of Andersonstown.
His parents shared a wonderful marriage until his father’s death from a sudden heart attack while he was with Eamonn, which brought such sorrow to his mother that she couldn’t display a photograph of her husband for the rest of her life.
Eamonn became an apprentice to Tony Abadi, a crystal blower from Italy who started Antrim Crystal, and he was pictured on the front page of a newspaper as “The first Irish man to blow crystal in the north of Ireland in a century”.
He left this job to join his brothers in Bass Ireland, where he drove lorries all over the island in a noble quest to keep the nation in good spirits throughout the Troubles.
Eamonn knew every hole in the hedge when it came to shortcuts and directions and subsequently every publican in Ireland, which is probably why he gave up drinking when he stopped working at the brewery, stating he was “fed up looking at it”.
Eamonn’s work ethic was legendary. He was the kind of man who rolled up his sleeves and got the job done, often whistling or cracking a joke while at it.
He loved making things with his hands, whether it was as intricate as tying flies for one of his fishing expeditions or garden furniture from things he found around the garage.
He once made a beautiful flower planter for his wife Monica from “recycled materials” and it was only when she looked inside it and saw Gerry Adams’s face staring back at her that she realised he had used old election boards.
He also crafted a beautiful garden bench out of “some ‘oul junk that was lying around” and it was later discovered that he had in fact dismantled a family heirloom in the form of a cot, which he repurposed without thinking to ask.
When confronted he shrugged and said: “Well at least it’s being used now”, and everyone conceded that it did in fact look better as a bench.
As a parent and step-parent, Eamonn was a champion of unconditional love and patience – the latter often tested by a household full of energetic kids bordering on chaos.
His aim was always to turn every bump, scrape or heartache into a lesson wrapped in a joke, proving that a good punchline was often better than a punch-up.
His kids, now grown, carry on his tradition of laughter, surely echoing his wise words and jokes to their own children, such as: “I can’t wait until tomorrow… because I’m getting better looking every day.”
And then there was Eamonn the grandfather. If he had joy in being a dad, he had double in being a Granda.
Nothing delighted him more than watching his grandkids grow and get up to mischief, which he often encouraged – after bringing them for an unsanctioned McDonald’s and filling them full of sugar, he would drop them off with their parents, stating the term “chemical warfare” before laughing and driving off, leaving the little hyperactive terrorists behind.
Eamonn’s beautiful faith carried him throughout his life.
Once, on a fishing expedition with his brothers-in-law Martin and James, he stopped at a statue of Our Lady and said a prayer before casting his line.
The men joked about his pious behaviour, but after watching Eamonn reel in a massive salmon that day, they weren’t long bending a knee and offer a prayer themselves.
When talking about his faith he would always quote the beginning of a Pink Floyd song, saying:
“I am not frightened of dying / Any time will do, I don’t mind / Why should I be frightened of dying? / There’s no reason for it, you’ve gotta go some time.”
That song is called ‘The Great Gig in the Sky”, which is the gig he will take great pleasure in attending with his beloved mother Vera, father Eddie and brothers Ciaran, Brendan and brother-in-law James, after passing away in much the same manner as his father on November 21 this year.
He is missed by all who loved him, which is many.
Brónagh Diamond