Limerick woman recounts 'unconscious' influence that led to grief centre's foundation

DESSERT is a weakness of Croom’s Sister Helen Culhane, and while out to dinner with friends at a hotel one evening, had she never ordered a sweet treat, she wouldn't have received an important reminder of the impact of her work.

As the dessert made its way through from the kitchen, veering around tables, chairs and patrons, the young man holding the enticing treat caught her attention. Wearing a wide smile, the young man, with a hint of recognition in his eyes, uttered a name that resonated with his past — Helen.

Momentarily perplexed, it then dawned on the sister who he was. From her memory bank, she recalled a young boy of eight who came to the Children’s Grief Centre in Limerick city after his parents split up.

The once devastated boy had become a confident young man of 17. And he never forgot the solace he had felt in Helen's presence.

This precious moment, along with a number of others, have solidified Helen’s faith in young people, and in the power of the grief centre.

Sharing the story of her journey into sisterhood with the Leader over the new year, Sr Helen brings us back to the 1970s, and her schooldays.

As she meanders through the corridors of her education, from the non-religious primary school in Croom, to the fee-free days of secondary schooling at Scoil Carmel in the city, she speaks of a well-rounded education that included elocution classes, music, and even ballet.

Fondly recalling Sister Josepha, the principal who presided over the secondary school for an impressive 40 years, Helen reflects on the discipline and care that shaped her formative years.

Other influential figures from her time at school, like Sister Gregory, the matron, inspired Helen, as she worked alongside her as a care assistant during the summer of her fifth-year.

At school, her religion teacher played a big part in her life. Sister Eva was admired by each child. "She had a guitar and we thought she was very cool," laughs Helen. "I can always remember her giving us a little copy of the New Testament, and she would have us singing nice hymns."

Not "overly holy Mary" in her practice, the Croom native recalls how Sister Eva, and the others impacted her life, ultimately guiding her to join the Sisters of Mercy at the age of 24.

A proud member of a big family, Helen grew up with three brothers and three sisters. Unfortunately, at the age of five, one of her beloved brothers, Martin Culhane, passed away at just three months-old.

"He was a thalidomide child," she reveals. Thalidomide was a widely-used drug in the late 1950s and early 1960s for the treatment of nausea during pregnancy.

In the 1960s, it came to light that thalidomide treatment resulted in severe birth defects in thousands of children. Two years later, Helen’s mother would give birth to twins, John and James, who would die at birth.

Even though she dealt with grief as a girl, Helen explains that the deaths wouldn’t have, consciously, had a "huge impact" on her foundation of the Children’s Grief Centre on September 14, 2009.

Going through the trauma of losing loved ones herself, Helen recalls her mother’s ability to keep Martin and the twins a part of their lives, through prayer and chat.

Recounting a tale which she dubs "unbelievable" in its own right, Helen describes the unconscious influence her siblings had in the centre’s foundation.

Limerick group that helps grieving young people receives national award

With the centre now running for some time, Helen’s curiosity about her late brothers grew, prompting her to research their stories.

One morning, while sitting in a pew at 8:30am Mass in St Augustine’s Church, a voice spoke to the devout woman urging her to go to St Camillus’ Hospital in search of information about the boys, to deepen her understanding of their lives.

With no records to be found of the twins, Martin’s birth certificate revealed something unexplainable — he was born on September 14, 1952, the same date the grief centre was founded, 57 years later.

Amazed at the link between the birth of Martin and the birth of the centre, she remarked: "The centre was born on the anniversary of my brother and totally unconscious."

During almost 15 years of service, the grief centre has won awards, received funding, grown into a place far beyond the Croom woman’s dreams, and, above all, continues to bring peace to young people across the country who experience loss, just as she did.

Recently retired from the centre (she stood down before Christmas) Helen has passed the torch to a new CEO, Mairead O’Keeffe.

The upcoming year promises to be a whirlwind for Helen from a pilgrimage to Rome, to volunteering in Santiago de Compostela, offering support to those on the Camino trail. Then she sets her sights on joining a transformative 10-week religious programme in Arizona, before returning in 2025 to work twice a week at the grief centre, a place which will continue to serve and shape the youth of Ireland.