August, my golden retriever, lies on the floor close to my desk. She sleeps quietly in the emptiness of the house.<\/p>\n
It\u2019s just the two of us now, after Ann Louise\u2019s passing 11 months ago.<\/p>\n
I have been hunched over the desk for most of the morning, working on the text of my next D\u00e1il speech as minister for children.<\/p>\n
The birdsong outside interrupts my concentration, which is why I look out to the small enclosure, filled with wooden tubs of late spring flowers.<\/p>\n
The magnolia tree has begun to bloom magnificently again, a gift from our solicitors to celebrate the initiation of the case we took against the Irish State because it would not recognise our 2003 Canadian marriage.\u00a0<\/p>\n
15 years ago.\u00a0<\/p>\n
My stare freezes. Grief enters, and slows me down, again.<\/p>\n
Eventually, I pull my attention back to the desk and notice an unopened envelope.\u00a0<\/p>\n
It is likely another sympathy card \u2014 I am lucky enough to have received many from people across the nation, each one easing the pain, at least for the moment.<\/p>\n
I open it to find a beautiful letter from a colleague who worked with me to save Seanad \u00c9ireann from abolition, a referendum put before the Irish people in 2013.<\/p>\n
He had met Ann Louise a couple of times, witnessing the playfulness and fidelity of our love.\u00a0<\/p>\n
His letter concludes by quoting F Scott Fitzgerald, from a letter in which he spoke about his wife, Zelda: \u201cI love her, and that\u2019s the beginning and end of everything.\u201d<\/p>\n
I put down my pen. I cannot work anymore.<\/p>\n
I see Ann Louise running to class in high heels, at Boston College, where we met in 1981.\u00a0<\/p>\n
We were going to be late because our squash game had run over, she defeating me yet again, as one of Ireland\u2019s champions in the sport.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\n Her spirit held exuberance so naturally. Her beauty blew my mind. How magnetised was her power. My life would never be the same.\u00a0\n <\/p>\n
We would begin a life journey together, looking for social change based on love.<\/p>\n
This study where I work used to be part of the learning space for women from Tallaght West who were determined to get a second chance at education.\u00a0<\/p>\n
![\"](\"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/ie\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/09\/4797953_2_articleinlinemobile_Katherine_20Zappone9676.jpg\" "\\"")
Katherine Zappone: “We did change the world. But mistakes were made, and the opposition and media wore me down at times, calling me to re-think who I am and how to keep going in the midst of a torrent of public criticism.” Photograph Moya Nolan<\/p>\n
We had transformed our garages into a community education centre \u2014 right outside our kitchen door.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I see Ann Louise standing in front of a flip chart, the paper covered with the words \u201cfeminism\u201d, \u201cimagination\u201d, and the French feminist philosopher \u201cLuce Irigaray\u201d in her vigorous script.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Her face fills with an invitation to each woman to step on to the path of finding her prologue own life dream.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Much later, it is these same women, and their families, who join us to line Dublin\u2019s streets as we march together for marriage equality.\u00a0<\/p>\n
What solidarity we feel. They are not afraid of difference. They rejoice in our love and a referendum that represents the heart of a nation opening towards us, and people like us.<\/p>\n
And that was only part of it. In 2011, she gave up a dream that the two of us would start some new work so that I could pursue politics.<\/p>\n
I tried to do politics differently. Time and again she showed me how to be collaborative: \u201cBe kind, Katherine. Trust your team.\u201d<\/p>\n
Before a challenging Cabinet meeting she\u2019d ask: \u201cHow can they be your companions in what you want to achieve? And how can you support them?\u201d<\/p>\n
Her petite frame appears in my memory as she listens to how I find allies in the politics of modern Ireland. My drivers, political and constituency teams, civil servants, neighbours and family.\u00a0<\/p>\n
We did change the world. But mistakes were made, and the opposition and media wore me down at times, calling me to re-think who I am and how to keep going in the midst of a torrent of public criticism.<\/p>\n
August still sleeps. I stare into the future, realising even more deeply that Ann Louise is no longer here. What does \u201ceverything\u201d mean now? I am heartbroken.\u00a0<\/p>\n
A couple of minutes pass. Maybe writing will help me to live with grief and heartache, and to find meaning again.<\/p>\n
Remarkably, Ann Louise herself stretched towards new meaning in the last year of her life by writing.\u00a0<\/p>\n
But her book remains an unfulfilled intention, because something happened to her and she was not able to complete it, despite her best fight.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Maybe I can take up the mantle and do it for both of us.<\/p>\n
To make a record of our last years together and reach for the new.<\/p>\n
I pull out a drawer to find an empty journal. I crack the spine and write one line:<\/p>\n
\u201cSomewhere between grief and joy…\u201d<\/p>\n
And I am transported back to a time, before politics or illness or grief, when our home was filled with the happiness of our forever love.<\/p>\n