Frank McNally recently collated a history of Ireland in 100 goodbyes for The Irish Times, including the likes of “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out”; “The wallpaper and I are in a duel to the death. One of us must go”; and “To hell or to Connacht.”
On the back of this piece, which appeared as part of An Irish Diary, readers sent in their favourite take on an Irish goodbye.
Here are a selection.
Reader comments
Further to Frank McNally’s “A history of Ireland in 100 goodbyes”, my father used to say, “It’s time to say the Rosary.” That cleared the house fairly smartly. – Denis Cremins, Dublin 8
An old Connemara saying: “He was here a while ago, but he won’t be long gone soon.” – Eileen Mangan, Rathfarnham, Co Dublin
“May God direct you.” – Patrick Whelan, Mullingar, Co Westmeath
The favoured parting exhortation of my late uncle Eamonn Vaughan: “You can tell your stories walking.” – Michael Vaughan, Lahinch, Co Clare
When our friends stayed too late, our father would open the hall door, stand outside and declare: “It’s a lovely night out. Sure anyone at all could go home on a night like this.” It never failed. – Fionnuala Dunne, Sandycove, Co Dublin
My late mother used to say, “If I don’t see you through the week, I’ll see you through the window.” – Mary Dunne, Gormanstown, Co Meath
To quote our beloved mother on visitors: “I’ll see you past the gander.” – Michael Kelly, Tralee, Co Kerry
As he first saw the light of day not too far from south Armagh, I was surprised Frank hadn’t included this one in his top 100: “Fare thee well Killeavy and the boys of Mullaghbawn.” Another one, favoured by a well-known Dundalk pub-owner of a number of years ago: “Watch yourself on the step.” – Joe Carroll, Dundalk, Co Louth
“Listen, I’m only holding you up.” – PJ McDermott, Westport, Co Mayo
My Co Carlow farmer grandfather, circa 1920, on leaving after a visit to his cousin on the other side of the parish, “Here I am going home, and I haven’t done half the talking I came to do.” – Cecil Mills, Monkstown, Co Dublin
“If you fall through the mattress, I’ll see you in the spring.” – Ursula Hough-Gormley, Dublin 4