Memories of my Dad
Saturday, July 24th, 2010By Sue Moynagh
I have very few memories of my father, Donald Moynagh. He died in January 1957 at the age of 28 from complications following what should have been a routine operation. I was 4 years old at the time, but I remember saying goodbye as he packed to leave for the hospital. I also remember walking up Harrison Street with my Aunt Helen, heading towards Dirsa’s Funeral Parlor on Providence Street. She asked if I would like to give my father a flower and I said yes. I took the carnation she had plucked from a wreath and placed it in my father’s hand, alongside his rosary. A flag was draped over the coffin. At some level, I understood he would not be coming home again.
Other memories vary in length and clarity, like clips from a video or the grainy black and white snapshots in a photo album. I remember visiting his parents in East Brookfield. Their home was on Lake Lashaway where he loved to swim. I was playing in the shallow water while he swam further out. My mother and grandmother sat nearby, but I decided I wanted to “swim” to him. The next thing I remember was being under the water Click to continue »



















