Séamus Ahearne: Zelensky, Getting Older, Tolka Row and the Deli girl’s question…

‘ZELENSKY IS A BAD MAN!’

I caught Zelensky being interviewed on the News at the Munich Security Conference last weekend. The Report (UK, Sweden, France, Germany and the Netherlands) had come out that Alexei Navalny had been poisoned by Dart Frog Toxin. Zelensky spoke quite forcefully (and in English) that this was the way of Putin. What he had done to Navalny, he was also doing to the Ukraine, every day. He was killing people. I mentioned Zelensky at Mass on Sunday, among many others mentioned. (By the way that long Gospel was ridiculous! It needed to pruned.) The idea was however important, that we had to be bold and strong to ‘survive’ in faith. We needed a ‘backbone’ and not a ‘wishbone’ (like Jim Dillon’s comment on Conor Cruise).

Yes, I mentioned that I didn’t know how Zelensky kept going. I don’t know how our local Parish Priest Richard keeps going; I don’t know how parents keep going; I don’t know how the parishioners keep going as they wait for their new Church to appear (in the chaotic delays of trying to get anything done nowadays). Two people disagreed with me, only on Zelensky. I was told that I needed to do more research on him. That he was ‘a very bad man’. That he should agree a deal. That he was the cause of the killings in his own country. That he was on cocaine – which is how he keeps going. I was surprised and I wondered, where such information was found. I continue to wonder how he keeps going!

THE BEST TUNES ARE PLAYED ON THE OLDEST FIDDLES. (Emerson).

I called a couple on Monday. They were sitting in a car for a few hours in Drogheda, as their foster child met with his mother. This couple (Jenny and Tom) have adopted three children and continue to foster babies, while they wait for them to be adopted. It is an extraordinary ministry of goodness and love. During the call, I told them that they have got very old. That I can’t come to terms with the fact that they are twenty- five years married. And then I began to think. The Quartet who joined the Augustinians back in 1964 are slowly getting old too. Giles has already stepped into his 80^th birthday. David will do so in March. Brian is on the way in July. I have to wait for November.

In my younger days, anyone who was eighty was seen to be ancient. I recall my grandmother in her shawl, but still upset that her days of travelling to Carrick-on-Suir for the shopping in her ass and cart had gone. Many such old folk used to sit around the open fire and share the news. Now our fronts were too hot; own backs freezing and chilblains were plentiful. There was also much smoke. Why are the four of us still somewhat young despite the age? Seven have died. We are blessed to be as good as we are. Our minds are sharp. Our memories are alert. Even if our ‘colleague’ in age (Donald Trump) displays much mental incapacity. We are better than he is, and we can’t do as much damage.

THE CROCUSES AND THE DIVINER:

My daily journey to the Tolka at 6.00am is a special moment and always refreshing in the mornings. My mind wakes us. It did face much competition during the recent weeks. The rain and the cold wind are an assault on my determination to keep going. But they didn’t and won’t beat me! Yesterday was very nasty. There was water everywhere. There were pools on the path and the grass was sodden. The wind was strong and very cold. And it was so dark. I carry my torch and it shone on a patch of ground. The crocuses smiled at me. I had to smile back. We winked at each other. It was exhilarating. I got back, showered, dressed and breakfasted.

The Morning Prayer said: ‘The heavens proclaim the glory of God. Day unto day takes up the story and night unto night makes known the message.’ Who could moan at the weather when that ‘word’ speaks? I then looked up ‘Scaffolding’ (Kay had asked me about the poem by Seamus Heaney). I am not always comfortable with Heaney. But then I read – ‘The Diviner.’ That brought me back to my country life, in the past, and the search for water; for a well. I loved the story of the poem. And I was very much reminded that this is what we all are trying to do. We are like that ‘hazel twig’ searching everywhere for the ‘water of life.’ We are diviners. We look for the ‘Godliness’ of life. The wonder and the beauty. The taking up ‘of the story’ each day. The twig twists and turns and finds its place. We know. We accept. We have divined the sacred. So never let’s forget the crocuses; the twig in our hands; the ‘water of life’ somewhere and everywhere around us.

Shalom

Seamus Ahearne osa 17^th February 2026

PS  I went into Centra yesterday after a couple of meetings to get a sandwich. The girls at the Deli began immediately to talk about Grace Lynch and her funeral. (The young girl killed by a scrambler bike some weeks ago). And then one of them said to me: “How are you?” That did surprise me. In the midst of so much sadness, how I am is hardly important. But it was humbling to be asked.