Erica Bracken: ‘My foundation as I knew it changed forever when my mother died’

My mom, Finola Halbert Bracken, passed away suddenly on August 11, 2024. She and the rest of my family were on Trálispean beach, West Cork. They’d been in the water, and she got into difficulty.

I wasn’t there. I was in Lisbon, where I’ve lived for three years. My parents, brother, Sam, his wife and daughter, my sister and her three children were all in West Cork, which through our childhood had been our summer holiday base.

Trálispean, we went to many times growing up, a stony beach down a winding road.

I was always very aware of what Mom was doing — we were constantly in contact — our lives woven, threaded together. I woke early that morning to do a photo shoot in a park in Lisbon. I’d only just finished, at midday, when Mom texted: ‘Morning love, hectic as you can imagine here with looking after the kids but that’s what this holiday is all about, hope you had an early night last night and the journey was good. How has your morning been?’

Erica Bracken said losing her mother has shown her both the fragility of life as well as love’s deep endurance. Picture: Erica Bracken.

I attempted to call her, failed, I tried again, 31 seconds long that call, the reception was poor — she was in the car going to the beach. I texted: ‘I can call you later x. I know you’re busy with the kids.’ I was content, knowing she was happy, I wanted her to be present with the kids, not be worrying trying to call me. For Mom, family being together, the kids being around, was just the pinnacle of life — she had very simple priorities for life: family, love. That’s how she operated.

For her last day to be with all of them in a place she — and we — had grown up going on holiday, near the ocean she loved, kids all around, picnic in the back of the car, it really was her perfect day. Just throwing herself into the middle of all that fullness of family.

I went for a nap after our texts. I’d been travelling the day before. I woke between 3 and 4pm to lots of missed calls, messages from my family, not saying anything but asking me to call them… a message from my aunt mentioned her sons could collect me from the airport… things rush through your head.

I called Sam. He asked was I sitting down, was there somebody near who could come to the house. He said ‘Mom is dead’. I can’t remember exactly… he gave some details… He’d done CPR while waiting for the first responders to arrive — it was too remote to bring her to hospital.

The West Cork Rapid Response (WCRR) team arrived, took over from Sam and assured him he’d done everything possible. Mom was unconscious; despite everyone’s best efforts, she didn’t survive. She passed away on the beach in Trálispean. I spoke to my dad on the same phone call — he told me how beautiful she looked.

Erica Bracken on how losing her mother has shown her both the fragility of life as well as love’s deep endurance. Picture: Erica Bracken

The rest of that day was complete shock and disbelief, trying to make sense not just of what had happened, but even of life — where it goes when it ends in this form we can see.

I had to do the formalities: Put on out-of-office, book flights, walk the dog. Sitting with my friend on a bench in that same park I’d been in earlier — no one around knew what had happened; the world kept spinning. Our lives were so knit together for 32 years, and now I was moving forward without her here. My foundation as I knew it changed forever, a completely new way of existence.

Since that day, I understand every day is a gift. We’re only guaranteed the breath we’re experiencing — everything can change in a second. That’s incredibly sad, but empowering to understand. It helps you live more fully. As a yoga teacher, I’ve studied the concept of the spirit living beyond our physical body. I believe that. This experience has really integrated it for me. From a place of knowing to understanding, from head to heart.

I now understand the thread moving through life, and beyond, is love. My mother left the most incredible legacy of love that continues to thread through all of us. How I was loved by her is embedded in me — informs how I live. I feel our purpose here is to love, be kind. The only thing that matters is how we make people feel.

Two years later, it still doesn’t feel real that someone so vibrant could be gone. But also I feel her with me.

Everywhere, always. I wake up every morning and still speak to her. Though my earthly relationship with her has ended, I really feel our relationship has evolved. That whatever you call it — energy, spirit, love, soul — doesn’t end. I feel her love with me.

The run we’re doing for West Cork Rapid Response coincides almost with her anniversary. It’s a ceremony in honour of how she lived. Offering the proceeds from it to WCRR is something she’d be proud of. Hopefully it will extend other families’ opportunity to be together. And it will be part of this legacy of love and care that she left.

Sam Bracken today runs 100km from Glenville, North Cork, to Trálispean beach, West Cork, in memory of his mum and in aid of West Cork Rapid Response, a team of volunteer-trained professionals who attend emergencies all over West Cork. Fundraising proceeds go directly to WCRR’s work. Visit www.idonate.ie/fundraiser/sambracken.