Thank You For The Days: Sean O’Connell

He’s up to something…

t’s a given that, as we get older, and older, death is going to come knocking on our door more and more…

But, hey, you look after yourself, have some fruit, drink a little wine, take a walk up a bitch of a hill every now and then, and the grim reaper can go whistle.

The problem is, in the last year or so, death has begun to break the rules, snatching away people who had quite a few more miles of road left ahead of them. 

It’s like death has decided that taking people away from us when they’re still in mid-sentence is the new black. The unfeeling fuck.

With rock’n’roll now settling into its sixties, it shouldn’t be too surprising to us that many of those rockers who soundtracked our youth have now taken that escalator to heaven. Even when it’s the likes of Bowie and Prince, two seemingly happy, healthy rock gods far from their sell-by dates.  

What is shocking though is when a friend is just spirited away in a sudden gust of wind, without warning, rhyme or reason.

Sean’s beautiful twins…

It happened last June, when local lad Duncan McNiff – happily settled in San Francisco with his wife and three kids – was, in a blink, gone. Forever. And now it’s happened with Séan O’Connell, merrily posting shots of his beloved dog nestled at his feet in front of a roaring stove and rhapsodising once more on how amazing his teenager daughters, Luka and Rowan, are, when, suddenly…

Like Duncan, Séan was a chuckler. Who, as the Dalai Lama himself will tell you, is always a good sign.

Chuckling at your chance meeting, at what mischief might be achieved today, at the joy of being on a movie set with Whoopi Goldberg, or cracking open a bottle of duty free halfway across the Atlantic, the air hostess silently admitting defeat when Séan pointed out that she can hardly throw you off the flight, now can she?

Yep, that was Séan. Or just a glimpse of the man, to be more precise. As with any life, there’s so much more to know. His early years in Marin County, California, with sisters Pauline and Anne, his move here in the afterglow of the hippy heyday, the new family home in the Glen o’ The Downs, meeting Ashling, becoming a dad, making movies, creating mischief…

As with Duncan, Séan’s sudden passing should be a reminder to us all that life is short, and, quite often, way too short, so we should savour every sweet second.

Like a good bottle of whiskey. On a transatlantic flight. To a little green slice of heaven on the edge of the world…

Safe journey, young Séan…