Last Updated on April 26, 2026
When Irish broadcaster Colm Hayes sat down with Muireann O’Connell for the first episode of RIP.ie’s new podcast series, Parting Words, he spoke about his wife Anne with the kind of honesty that is rare in public life.
Anne died in September 2025, after six years of living with metastatic breast cancer. They had been married for 35 years, and together for around a decade before that. Colm describes her as his wife, his life partner and his best friend.
Living with illness before loss
After Anne’s diagnosis, they made a decision together. They were not going to simply wait for what was coming. They travelled. They made plans. They renewed their vows in Portugal with family and friends around them. They kept living, even while knowing that very hard days were ahead.
For many people who have cared for a partner through a long illness, that will feel familiar. Grief does not wait for the death. It begins earlier, quietly, in the changing of plans and the shifting of ordinary life. You can be grieving already while still trying to protect the person you love and make the most of the time you have left together.
Colm does not romanticise any of this. He speaks about dark days and difficult nights and the plain reality of cancer. But he also speaks about choosing to live inside that reality rather than be swallowed by it. That balance is what makes the interview so worth listening to.
The loneliness he describes
When Muireann asks him what grief feels like now, Colm says it is the loneliest, saddest place he has ever been.
That kind of plain honesty is something many widowed people rarely hear from others, especially in public. The usual words offered after a loss, that time heals, that life goes on, can feel very far from where you actually are. They are meant kindly, but they do not always reach you.
Colm talks about still expecting Anne to ring him. He describes being out with friends, having a good evening, then coming home, putting on music and falling apart within seconds.
Many people who have lost a partner will recognise that exactly. Grief can stay quiet while you are busy and among other people, and then arrive suddenly the moment the house is still. A song, a smell, a piece of clothing, something as ordinary as putting the bins out can bring everything rushing back without warning.
He describes grief as a minefield. As snakes and ladders. One moment you think you are finding your footing, and then something pulls you back to the very beginning again.
The paperwork nobody prepares you for
Something that will resonate with many widowed people is the time Colm spends talking about the practical administration after a death.
He talks about bank accounts, death certificates, Revenue, bills, phones and the dozens of ordinary tasks that land on top of you when you are already barely managing. Some are official and complicated. Others are small and domestic. But each one carries its own weight.
This is something many widowed people will understand, even when others around them may not. Cancelling a phone contract is not just an account change. Removing a name from a joint account is not just paperwork. Every one of those small tasks is a quiet confirmation that the person is gone.
There is another layer to it too. Many couples divide the responsibilities of daily life without ever thinking about it. One person handles the bills, the insurance, the Revenue login, the passwords. When that person dies, the one left behind is grieving and trying to learn an entire hidden system at the same time, often with very little support for doing so.
Going back to work does not mean moving on
Colm returned to work relatively soon after Anne’s death. He is clear about what that meant and what it did not mean. Work gave him structure. It gave him somewhere to be. It did not mean he was over it.
That is worth saying plainly, because bereaved people are sometimes judged either way. Go back too soon and people assume you are not really grieving. Stay away too long and people worry. In truth, neither says anything reliable about how someone is actually doing inside.
Laughing with friends does not mean someone is fine. Having one good hour does not cancel out the grief. Falling apart later does not mean they are failing.
It means they are grieving, and grief does not move in a straight line.
Why this interview matters
There is a growing public conversation about grief in Ireland, and Parting Words is a welcome addition to it. RIP.ie is already woven into Irish funeral life, and a podcast that lets people speak openly about what loss actually feels like has real value.
Parting Words is a six-part series exploring love and loss, and Colm Hayes is the first guest. The episode is available on YouTube and all major podcast platforms.
If you have recently lost your partner
If you recognised something of yourself in what Colm describes, you are not alone, and what you are experiencing is not unusual after deep loss.
You do not have to rush major decisions if you can avoid them. You do not have to be functioning. Let people help with the practical things when help is offered. Keep notes, because grief affects concentration in ways that can catch you off guard.
If the loneliness feels frightening, please reach out to someone you trust, your GP, or an urgent support service.
Widow.ie has a private peer support forum for people in Ireland who have lost a husband, wife, partner or fiancé. Sometimes the most helpful thing is simply talking with someone who has been in the same place and understands what it feels like from the inside.
