Post eclipse reflections – remembering Jimmy Evans
This post eclipse blog is written much later than usual, as my dearest friend of almost 60 years, Jimmy Evans, crossed over on 26th September, a few days after the Solar Eclipse. Aged 92, he died of a heart attack on the way home from the bookies (betting shop) no less! I mean who can beat that!! There is a strong pattern in my life of finding out about someone’s death too late to go to the funeral, and this unexpectedly was also the case with Jimmy, which distressed me enormously.
On the other hand, it meant the decision whether to attend or not was pretty much taken from me, for which I ended up being profoundly grateful. After so many months of post dental work illness, I would have been reluctant to push my body through the gruelling one and a half day journey back to Dublin, especially having just decamped to Tropea to let my workman work away in peace on my new apartment in Vibo. An apartment which turned out to need four times the work than originally anticipated, including almost total rewiring.
It has been an eclipse like no other for sure and I would love to hear how it played out for all of you. The week I heard of Jimmy’s death (he died round lunchtime on Friday 26th September, but I did not find out till Tuesday 30th September, exactly five days later) I had taken a week in Tropea to decide when and how to move towards being a full time artist.
Some of you who are ever patient clients of mine may remember round about August last year, when my two laptops crashed back to back, right as I was wrapping up the sale of my house in Courtmacsherry whilst simultaneously prepping for my first ever art and astrology retreat with Kathryn Hastings. I almost ceased being an astrologer then and there and in many ways I wish I had. The new laptop I bought would not operate Solar Fire so I had to buy another business model Dell Latitude which a year later promptly stopped working properly this August when I returned back to Vibo from a three week trip to Ireland.
Yes, friggin’ really! It eventually reset itself thankfully, but only after two frustratingly unsuccessful visits to local computer shops and after several weeks of turning itself off regularly.
My ongoing move to being a fulltime artist encompasses writing, painting and jewellery, none of which are subject to tech issues. I am still working away on my hand painted natal astrological birth charts and will also continue to see astrology clients online, but on a reduced basis. I am indeed returning to seeing clients in person, but via workshops for the immediate future.
My apartment here in Calabria has turned out to need four times the work I originally expected, including almost total rewiring (see the tech connection??!) along with some areas needing at least five coats of paint, repairing and cleaning air conditioners, wood burning stoves, total reflooring of two rooms, removing ancient furniture which crumbled as it was brought it down the stairs, assembling new furniture whilst simultaneously setting up a work space and an art studio. I am learning so much from this process and it turns out I am really good at it. It has however been far more challenging than the work I had done to my home in Courtmacsherry, almost too much so at times, so further renovations are on hold for another while while I get my breath back and focus on new friendships instead.
So, the very day after I arrived in Tropea, I received the news of Jimmy’s crossing over. Turning my week there totally on its head. It will be many weeks, maybe even months, before I process just how much he really meant to me, as he was such a constant figure in my life for almost 60 years. Jimmy crossed over between the Solar Eclipse of 21st September and the Full Moon in Aries on 6th October, on 26th September. Poignantly, future anniversaries of his crossing over will also now be in September, the same Autumnal month in which my daughter Ruth crossed over.
And yes, within hours of the Aries Full Moon, a mere few days after his funeral, I had viciously cruel and harsh words hurled at me, via text from an old school friend of over 50 years, who I actually introduced to Jimmy way back as a teenager. I was simply retexting to confirm if that evening was a suitable time to chat, having texted the previous evening also, offering condolences. The viciousness of her reply shocked me to the core and the only conclusion I could reach was that lies are still being spread about me back in Ireland, as nothing else about her reaction made any sense.
Jimmy was introduced to us through Cyril Hayes another family friend. Cyril and my mother had been childhood friends and had reconnected after my parents separation in the late 1970’s. Through Cyril, we met Jimmy and from early on, their Sunday visits became the highlight of my week. Cyril would come up for lunch, often arriving hours late, to my mother’s constant dismay, then Jimmy would arrive up on Sunday evening, either for dinner or supper. As my mother cooked for up to seven students, plus the three of us, Sunday meals were slightly different in that a lighter evening meal was prepared as they already had had a full lunch. Then came my mother’s famous supper round 11pm (every evening folks!) with homemade scones and homemade jam (either mam’s or Jimmy’s!).
Within months of knowing him, Jimmy would arrive up with up to seven books for me to read, plus another four or five albums to listen to. The older I got the faster I devoured these books. Many of the books got read under the desk in school, or in the case of “Lady Chatterley’s Lover”, in full view of my late mother, but under the lip of the kitchen table, rather than in full sight, just in case. I was only 15 after all! Through Jimmy I learnt to love Joan Baez, Judy Collins, Joni Mitchell, and most especially Emmylou Harris. Every Christmas and birthday Jimmy would always arrive with the perfect present which was usually the latest Neil Diamond or Bob Dylan album. One of his gifts was the full box set of the Narnia Chronicles, another was a full box set of Daphne du Maurier. He also gave me a deep love of ballet, theatre, classical music and poetry, regularly taking myself and my younger sister, Teresa to more theatres and concerts than I can remember. As Dublin unbelievably still did not have a concert hall many of the concerts we attended, such as Emmylou Harris and Joan Baez, were held in the National Boxing Stadium, which thankfully was walking distance from our house.
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Over the years Sundays often became a full day’s outing with Jimmy taking myself and my younger sister Teresa cycling to the Bull Island, or by bus to Enniskerry where we would then walk the four miles there and back to Powerscourt Waterfall. As the years, passed and as the number of students swelled from four or five to six or seven, summer evening outings with the students became a regular event with Jimmy often accompanying us. I remember taking two buses to Howth to see the fisherman bring in their daily catch, buying mackerel to bring back for my mother to cook the next day, followed by walks among the rhododendrons in Howth Castle. These hazy golden summer evenings remain one of my all time favourite teenage memories.
Sunday evening goodbyes between the three of us and Jimmy and Cyril would usually last an hour – the initial goodbye at the kitchen table, another chat at the bottom of the stairs, a further anecdote on the half way up landing, more chat and banter at the main front door followed by volleyballs of cheeky repartee down the stone steps when the pair of them eventually left!
Jimmy generously lent whoever needed whatever he had, cheerfully and willingly. He was the first person to teach me photography, telling me photography was all about capturing the light and the moment. Two phrases which served me well when I became a professional photographer in my 40s. Jimmy frequently lent me his camera for several cycling trips in my teens and 20s, and even though I finally bought a decent camera after my daughter Ruth was born in November 1991, some of the best photos ever taken of Ruth were of course, taken by Jimmy!
He lent me and many others his second bike whenever anyone needed one, which was sometimes the case if my bike was being repaired, or on one occasion, stolen. He also kindly lent his bike to my late daughter Ruth on several occasions. His bike was the Rolls Royce of bikes, the ueber de luxe Dawes Super Galaxy with its high speed twenty one gears and comfy saddle. At the time my finances only stretched to a modest five speed Dawes, and though I longed for it, for some reason I never ended up ever upgrading to the Dawes Galaxy! Super or otherwise! Borrowing his bike was heaven indeed!
He also introduced me to Dervla Murphy, an intrepid Irish traveller, cyclist and amazing writer whose puritanical but highly adventurous approach to travelling was to inspire me for decades. He bought me most of her books as gifts, many of which I read several times over.
In my teens when he still lived in Lower Pembroke Street in central Dublin, I would often join him and Tricia (the forementioned former school friend) for fiery, feisty debates with whoever else happened to turn up at Gaj’s famous left-wing café and restaurant in Dublin’s city centre.
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From communion, to confirmation, to my wedding in France, then my graduation as a mature student in Wales, Jimmy was there. Jimmy was also there at my 18th and 21st birthdays, and as the years went on to become decades, also my 30th, 40th, and 50th birthdays. All of which were held as family dinner parties in my late mam Nuala Clarkes, house. When Ruth was born on 2nd November 1991, he was one of the first to visit in hospital, complete with a teddy (who Ruth named “Funny Man” as she got older and which she still had at the time of her death), gifted with the usual beautiful hand written message which read along the lines of “Congratulations of the birth of your daughter. Glad to see you won’t be Ruthless anymore!” Only Jimmy could mix heartfelt love, joy at the birth of Ruth with the last word in corny jokes!
Jokes he was still making when I saw him for lunch on 14th August of this year, when he slagged me for being too lazy to walk down to his local pub, the Dropping Well with him for lunch. My cousins had kindly offered to collect him out of consideration, but Jimmy choose to roundly slag us all first before eventually agreeing to be chauffeured down!
When Ruth was younger, for her too, Jimmy’s presents were some of the most appreciated. Round the age of five or so, her Christmas present was an old walking sock stuffed with vegetables which were separately wrapped in old newspaper. Around 20 potatoes, carrots, turnips and onions were stuffed into the scruffiest walking sock you ever saw, with Ruth laughing hysterically as she unwrapped each one. He also, to her amazement, used to “lay’ chocolate Kinder Eggs through his trouser pants for her. Ruth got better at persuading him to lay one each time they met, and he generously obliged. Ruth too, was also the recipient of tons of wonderful books over the years.
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In later years, Jimmy’s sage advice helped me enormously in my marriage difficulties and when I eventually divorced and returned to from Wales to Ireland to start again in late 2007, Jimmy kindly had me stay with him for days on end whilst I figured out whether to move back to Dublin or start afresh in Cork. I choose the latter but continued to stay with Jimmy frequently when I came up from Cork to Dublin to visit my mum, and later, my late daughter Ruth when she was in college.
When I came back from Italy to visit family in 2015 and 2016, I continued to frequently stay with Jimmy and stayed even longer when I returned to Ireland in 2017 for what was supposed to be six to twelve weeks but which ended up being a whole year, due to the housing crisis. It took several months to secure accommodation (eventually in Kinsale), during which time I stayed with Jimmy regularly. When Ruth’s father David died unexpectedly in December 2017, whilst I was in the USA, Jimmy was once again one of the first people I turned to.
During the dark days of Covid, my Mum and then my late daughter Ruth’s death, I continued to turn to Jimmy. He continued, despite now being in his late eighties, to be there. We agreed to disagree on Covid vaccinations and compromised by going for distance spaced walks by the Dodder river instead. Oh, how I missed those coffees and meals in his house though! And the glasses of wine by his fire, chatting about anything and everything. Whilst living in Cork his house had become my second home on my trips to Dublin. He would frequently knock on my bedroom door, wondering if I was depressed, to which I would always reply, no, I was just far too cosy in his lovely front bedroom room to want to move! A large comfy double bed with beautiful view of his front garden, an electric blanket underneath me, and a vast selection of books around me to read. Sure, what more could a quadruple Gemini ask for!
In later years what I most remember was the kindness of his having the electric blanket already plugged in for me if I arrived from Cork way past his fairly early bedtime. The front door key would be left under the mat, with a meal left out for me on his homely kitchen table. In the morning, I loved more than anything joining him for a late breakfast of his home made muesli with tons of cups of strong freshly brewed coffee. Followed by several slices of toast with his homemade jam slathered on top and I’d be set for the day. His radio would be on, we would chat about this and that and he would tell me his plans for the day, and I’d tell him mine. We’d text back and forth during the day and I’d often make it back in time for dinner with him. If I was still out, he’d kindly always leave a meal for me.
It was a regular occurrence that his additional seemingly never-ending generosity would further extend to treating me to a meal in the local pub, the Dropping Well, if he had a win in the bookies! His motto was to never bet more than you could afford to lose, and some years back I had him place bets for me too. Which of course entailed letters back and forth with details of which horses he had bet on, and why, and the results. He kept a running tab for a good year or more with me posting him the funds to keep the fun going. No Revolut or online bank transfer here, folks!
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Jimmy’s crossing over has indeed been the end of an era for me.
The renewed heartache of knowing I’ll probably never now be reconciled with my younger sister Teresa came to the fore these last few weeks, for if ever there was a time when reconciliation would take place between us, it would have been at Jimmy’s funeral. To lose my most steadfast friend of almost six decades is no small thing. I received no condolences from anyone, other than the cousins I reached out to. I get huge comfort from knowing that nothing was unsaid from my side to Jimmy. How much I meant to him I’ll never know and maybe I don’t actually need to. He continued to love me unconditionally for almost six decades.
Let that be as it is.
I get great comfort from knowing his crossing over was sudden and peaceful, that he did not suffer. Jimmy, my mam Nuala and Cyril all made it to ninety and beyond. No mean feat. What did they have in common to achieve that? Well, to the end, all three of them stayed engaged with life in general and had their own community, their own network of support. My late mam Nuala also took more exercise in the last five years of her life than ever before. Until four short years ago, Jimmy was still working in his garden, only giving up cycling last year. I used to tell Jimmy regularly how he inspired me and how I hoped to be as physically active in later years as he was.
In my relocated chart here in Calabria, Pluto moves house – from my forth house natally to my third house, and becomes angular on my IC. Once again, the astrology plays out so specifically, symbolising the death of the last family link through Jimmy, and the probable final death of my relationship with my younger sister Teresa. Plus, that school friend too, a friend who came to Ruth’s memorial service in Kinsale some years back. My trip back to Ireland in August was in fact very healing and great fun. I also finally made my peace with a country I love so much but where I also endured such agonising loss, grief and heartache these last five years.
Well now Jimmy, I am finally back being physically active! Through regular pilates, cycling and walking. It all adds up. Art has, not surprisingly, become more important than astrology. I am finally merging both with my first astrological and art in person workshop planned for a few weeks’ time here in Calabria.
My next blog post will be on the realities of relocating in this day and age. I’ll cover the stuff all those sugar sweet Instagram posts don’t tell you – the tech burnout, the overwhelm, the rudeness of constant phone scrolling – it’s a whole different world than when I relocated to Italy in late 2014, or the USA in late 2017.
Jimmy had some inimitable quotes which I’d like to end this blog post with. On being constantly asked why he never married, his response was “Why make one woman happy, and all the others miserable?!” Or how he stayed so fit, trim and healthy – “Because I never had a car I got plenty of exercise and because I never married, I got plenty of rest”.
One of my favourite quotes of all was from Oscar Wilde in the form of a card permanently on his mantelpiece – “With freedom, flowers, books and the moon, who could not be perfectly happy?” (De Profundis)
There are thousands more words I could write of the man who more than anyone, shaped how I am today. I am truly only slowly starting to see this now. They are forming as poems, more of which anon.
Rest in peace dearest, dearest James. And please give Ruth the biggest hug ever.
