The Whole Hogge With Jacqueline Hogge

Iâ€â„¢VE often wondered what it is that makes people choose the most selfless of careers, such as those who opt for a job on the front line of health or education. Some say to be a nurse or a teacher is a vocation, and while I agree it takes a very specific type of person to perform either role to the highest standard, Iâ€â„¢ve often thought some jobs suit certain personalities better than others. Mammy H pleaded with all five of her daughters to consider the teaching profession, or a job in the bank, as we were growing up. Even though I knew at a very early age that I would make neither an inspirational teacher nor competent financial advisor, the thought of doing something worthwhile with my life, as in providing a meaningful service to others, has only occurred to me in recent years. While the first born did follow the teaching career path and youngest is an upstanding member of our countryâ€â„¢s fragile health system, the middle three ended up in more self-serving occupations. But they say you work with your strengths and given that the two things Iâ€â„¢ve never needed any help with involve talking and listening, journalism has proved to be a pretty good fit. I may not know how to save a life, nor nurture the academic, sporting or artistic talents of the next generation, but I am in the privileged position of being able to bring remarkable stories from remarkable people to a wider audience.[private] Iâ€â„¢m almost 15 years at this gig by now, and even though Iâ€â„¢m still learning I can honestly say the most humbling of experiences have occurred in the six years since Iâ€â„¢ve been writing in my home town. There have been many happy stories and so many sad, but the most inspirational have come from the strongest of people, many of whom have no idea of how remarkable they are. This time last year I had the privilege of meeting a young lady who had lost her brother to suicide, and whose strength and determination to speak out about her loss was driven by the basic need she had to try to prevent another death in such circumstances. Michelle had never met me before, nor did she know anything about me. Yet she invited me into her home to share her story that 12 months on from the event, was as raw and painful as if her brother had died that very day. The trust she placed in me to portray the man her brother was, and the effect his death had not only on her but on his wider family and huge circle of friends, was unwavering, and to be honest at times, a little overwhelming. Thankfully I managed to re-tell her heartbreaking experience as true to fact as if she had written the piece herself, and her appreciation following its publication made me feel that by virtue of the job I do, I had in some small way made a difference. Fast forward a year and I had the same sense of achievement when I was on the Square last Saturday as the town welcomed home a group of runners who had run from Galway to Tuam, to honour the late John â€ËœSnifferâ€â„¢ Cunniffe by raising funds for Galway Hospice. Led by Johnâ€â„¢s widow Carmel, a group of almost 50 local people were welcomed to rapturous applause (not to mention some impressive amateur pyrotechnics) as they finished their gruelling trek. A couple of weeks earlier Carmel had invited me into her home to explain the reasons for taking on such a challenge on what would have been Johnâ€â„¢s 44th birthday. Again, privilege is the only word to describe the feeling of being invited to sit at someoneâ€â„¢s kitchen table as they can tell you of a husband and father who bravely fought cancer for 13 months. The decision to run over 20 miles, by a lady who has only recently taken up the sport, was rooted in a desire to give something back to the team of doctors and nurses from Galway Hospice who made the darkest of months that little bit brighter for a family coping with terminal illness. A lot of us hacks carry lofty notions of tackling something more substantial than the weekly copy that is our stock and trade. Some people believe thereâ€â„¢s a book to be written about everyoneâ€â„¢s life but those who write for a living, in whatever capacity, are often vain enough to think that theirs will be an instant bestseller and rank up there with the literary greats. Iâ€â„¢ll admit Iâ€â„¢ve harboured notions of churning out a no-holds-barred memoir concerning the Hogge contingent for at least a decade, but anyone who knows me knows that Iâ€â„¢m all talk, given my inherent lazy streak. That and the myriad of excuses I have successfully deployed as to why I havenâ€â„¢t written it by now. With so many more interesting stories out there to tell, why would I bore anyone with the mundane meanderings of me, myself and I? There is the other small matter of elder legal sibling over the water who has already made a preemptive strike by threatening a libel action if she is referenced disingenuously in these weekly columns. The book I have in mind would most likely never see the light of day. The health and education sectors should be more than relieved to have dodged the bullet that would be me in either occupation, but I believe that while itâ€â„¢s small fry compared to others, my contribution to some lives may make a fleeting difference, and thatâ€â„¢s good enough for me. [/private]