This article is one of a series about people who have died with coronavirus in Ireland and among the diaspora. Read more at irishtimes.
She always said it was Mary-Anne but even that’s not the truth either. We found out when she died that that her name was actually Anne-Mary.
We went looking for a registry of her birth and found an Anne-Mary born in Trim in 1937 and sure that couldn’t be her. But it was.
All her life she signed her name as Mary-Anne or Nancy but her name was Anne-Mary. Isn’t that gas?”
She grew up in Stackallen, Co Meath.
Her parents died young – her father before she was 10 and her mother when she was 19. Nancy and her brother moved in with their uncle after their mother died but soon afterwards, she met her husband-to-be Richard Whyte.
We always said that if our house was robbed, the whole street would be robbed! It happened the whole time, friends of ours would come knocking on the door and go, ‘Where’s your mam, where’s Nancy? I’m locked out of the house.’”
“She was really proud of her penmanship.
And although she never drove, she loved Formula One. She was dead serious about it.
Mam came the odd time but it wasn’t really her thing. And yet she was crazy into Formula One for whatever reason.
Nancy Whyte lived a normal, unsung life. She had a stroke in 2017 and her son Paul became her carer.
She was taken to hospital on April 1st with symptoms of coronavirus and died a week later.
“In a way, when she died, she got what she wanted. Not dying, obviously.
But she wouldn’t have wanted a funeral with any fuss.
Very simple, just a lovely thing of people standing there as she passed. The hearse pulled up to the church in Saggart and the priest came out and blessed the coffin and then we drove off to Mount Jerome cemetery.
So basically, she got a no-fuss funeral. I think she would have liked that.