Eleven children, countless memories, and 100 years of life for Ballycroy’s Bridget Conway

What’s the secret to a long life? Well, according to 100-year-old Bridget Conway, it’s “hard work and plain food”.

Having recently celebrated her 100th birthday, the mother of eleven looks back on a lifetime that stretched from the days of barefoot journeys, push bikes, and homemade bread to a world of modern cars, electricity, and all the conveniences that earlier generations could have never imagined.

Despite the passing of a century, Bridget remains in good spirits and is grateful for her health.

“I am in good health, thank God,” she says. “I am able to get around anyway,” she laughs.

Some of Bridget’s earliest memories are of a very different Ballycroy, where community life revolved around the home, the church and neighbours who were never far away.

Her earliest recollection takes her back to childhood, accompanying her mother to Mass.

“Coming to Mass with my mother. I was only about six or so,” she recalls.

Bridget recalls a time when entertainment and socialising happened in dance halls.

“It was good. You’d go to the house dances,” Bridget remembers. “They were country dances. There was no big hall session.”

One house might host the dancing for days, with people walking considerable distances to join in the music and company.

The journeys could be every bit as memorable as the dances themselves. Wrapped up against the cold in woollen socks and sturdy shoes, people made their way along snow-covered roads, determined not to miss the fun.

Bridget particularly remembers the great snowfall of 1949, a year that stands out in her memory. “1949. I remember the big snow,” she says.

LIFE BEFORE MODERN CONVENIENCES

Bridget has witnessed a transformation in everyday life that few generations have experienced so completely.

When she was young, walking was a necessity rather than a choice, and even owning a bicycle was beyond the reach of many.

“You see everyone having cars now, and we didn’t even have a bicycle. We had to walk,” she says.

She has also watched the landscape that surrounds in Ballycroy change, with new houses appearing and familiar surroundings gradually taking on a different character.

Even something as ordinary today as turning on a tap represents a huge change from the life Bridget knew.

“And you’d have to draw the water from the well. Taps were never a thing in the past,” she says.

Electricity, oil, and other conveniences that are now taken for granted were absent from her early life. The home was a place of hard work, with turf fires providing heat and a means of cooking.

Her recollections of the Second World War bring home just how difficult those years could be. “I kind of remember the last World War, a lot about it,” she says.

“We had no candles, no light, no electricity, no oil, and you had to have just timber kiln the turf fire when you go around to make your tea.”

MARRIED LIFE IN 1949

Bridget married in 1949, a year she remembers not only for the heavy snow but also as the beginning of a new chapter in her life.

It was an Ireland where farming remained central to rural life, and families worked hard to provide for themselves.

“It was farming and cattle and sheep and, you know, for the farming and homemade bread,” she says.

The modern supermarket was a world away. Families depended on their own produce, with bread baked at home and food prepared from whatever was available.

“There was no creamery butter. There was no loaf bread. There was baked bread and flour and meal.”

The food Bridget remembers was plain, filling and largely home-produced. Families might rear a pig for meat, grow vegetables and keep hens for eggs. Potatoes and other vegetables were staples of the household diet.

“We’d rear a pig, a small pig, and we’d have bacon, spare ribs and potatoes and turnip, maybe cabbage, carrots and kind of vegetables, in them days,” she says.

“Bread and tea and butter. That’s all.” There were also eggs from the family’s own hens and produce from the land. “And eggs, your own, your own produce.”

Looking at the food choices available today, Bridget is aware of how much things have changed. “Oh, now it’s takeaways,” she laughs.

Alongside farming, family and community life, music has played an important part in Bridget’s story.

She learned to play the accordion while attending national school, taught by her godfather.

“I’ve been playing since I was going; I learned when I was going to the national school,” she recalls. “I learned from my godfather.”

Bridget still has an accordion, although it has suffered damage over the years.

MAYO FOOTBALL

Bridget has also kept an interest in the wider world around her, including one of Mayo’s great passions - Gaelic football. While she now follows the action from home, she enjoys watching the matches on television.

“I watch it on television,” she says. Her connection to the game goes back to her school days, when she knew players who would later take to the field.

“I went to school with two lads who played in Mayo's win in 1951.”

And following this year's win, Bridget had a very special visit. Sam Maguire made its way to Ballycroy, with Ryan O’Donoghue and Seamus Howard.

FAMILY LIFE

For all the changes Bridget has witnessed, family remains central to her life.

She raised 11 children, three boys and eight girls, and remembers the devastating loss of her husband Michael Anthony, who died suddenly from a heart attack. Her youngest child was just 17 at the time.

Although she can still manage little things for herself, she is grateful for the help and companionship of those around her. “But I can do little bits for myself,” she says.

Living close to family has brought reassurance and comfort, with relatives nearby and help always at hand.

“I’m near my family there; my son-in-law is back the road,” she says. “They’re very good to me. More than good.”

For Bridget Conway of Ballycroy, a century of life has brought extraordinary change and countless cherished memories. Now, as she celebrates her 100th birthday, reaching this remarkable milestone is a fitting testament to a life so richly lived. “I didn’t even think I was 70. I feel great.”