Family tribute to Mayo man Eamonn Conway 39 years of laughter, love and life
It is impossible to put into words the sheer scale of grief felt in Castlebar these past few weeks.
Eamonn’s funeral spoke more than any sentence ever could - every face, every handshake, every shared tear reflecting the love people had for him.
As a family, we were surrounded by his friends, neighbours, teammates, classmates, customers, colleagues, cousins, and countless others who simply came to pay their respects.
Each person reminded us of the impact Eamonn made in his 39 years, and the depth of his loss has been felt deeply throughout the community, a testament to how well-known, well-loved, and widely cherished he was.
He was the definition of a bright spark: a fun-loving, energetic soul who lived life at full tilt.
He was fit, sporty, a man who loved to run, to sea-swim, to plunge into ice baths, to play soccer, to travel, to party, and to fill every room with mischief and laughter.
He had a brilliant career with the family business, Edward Conway Motors, where he worked for more than 20 years.
He had brains to burn, and the best circle of friends anyone could ask for. Above all, he had family; one brother, four sisters, wonderful in-laws, and sixteen gorgeous nieces and nephews who adored him beyond measure.
And yet we are left with a question that has no simple answer: how could someone so loved, supported, and surrounded still be overcome by an illness so silent and so cruel?
Mental illness does not discriminate – it can touch any family, any person, no matter how strong, how social, or how full of life they appear.
What we do know is this: if love alone could have saved Eamonn, he would still be with us today.
Where Family and Friendship Ran Deep
Eamonn grew up in Ballinglough, Snugboro - one of six children - in a house full of bikes, go-karts, homemade ramps and huts, swings, footballs and goalposts; a place that was noisy, chaotic, and full of life, where neighbours felt like family and childhood stretched out in long summer days.
When cancer took our Dad in 2001 and our Mam in 2006 while we were still young, it was a blow no teenager should endure.
Eamonn carried the weight of that loss with incredible strength. He had a special bond with Mam - in truth, he was her favourite - sharing warmth, jokes, a love of Fr. Ted, and dances in the kitchen.
As adults, life brought laughter back and our sibling bond was unbreakable. Shed and sheebeen parties became the norm, lots of sport, summers in Rosmoney and Clew Bay, and nights of craic with Eamonn at the centre of it all. He loved us all fiercely and we loved him right back.
Alongside his family, Eamonn was also surrounded by the largest, most loyal circle of friends anyone could ask for.
Thirty or forty sound, brilliant guys (and girls) who embodied what true friendship means, and who lived life with the same energy he did: in the sea, on the pitch, on the road, on the slopes, in the pub, and everywhere in between.
They stood by him through every step of his illness, and their presence and honour of him during his funeral was extraordinary - carrying him, creating a circle of love around him, singing for him. Their love for him was a force in itself, and we will never forget what they did for him, and for us. We will be forever grateful.
Sport, Club and Community
On every pitch, from Conway Park to anywhere he played, Eamonn played with heart. From his Castlebar Celtic beginnings to his proud years with Snugboro United, he played with passion, and that trademark Conway determination. For the Boro, he wasn’t just a player; he was one of their own.
With Conway Park named after his Dad, his brother serving as chairperson, his sisters playing ladies masters, his in-laws as players/coaches, and nearly all his nieces and nephews in club colours, the Snugboro connection ran deep.
He won many titles with the club, including player of the year, and even holds the unique distinction of being the only Mayo club player ever airlifted to Mayo University Hospital after a dislocated shoulder - a moment of “high-flying Eamo” we will never forget.
Seeing that sea of Snugboro’s blue and yellow rise around him in his final guard of honour is something we will treasure forever, the perfect last tribute to a life lived so brightly.
As a youth, he was also a dedicated GAA player, part of the Under-10 Castlebar Mitchels team that won the historic All-Ireland Final in Mosney in 1996. Their guard of honour to the church was equally powerful, and we are deeply grateful.
A Love for the Outdoors
If Eamonn wasn’t working or hanging out with friends, he was outside. Running before sunrise, plunging into the freezing Atlantic, competing in races, doing Wim-Hof breathwork, taking ice baths long before they were fashionable, or travelling to new destinations, he chased freedom wherever he could find it.
The sea lifted the heaviness. The cold cleared his mind. The wind gave him breath. The run gave him purpose.
Those were the moments that gave him peace. And he really did try everything to find that peace.
The Silent Illness
Eamonn wanted to keep living, and he tried so hard. He spoke of travelling the world and making more memories with family and friends. He fought harder than anyone ever saw, trying every day - for us, for the kids, for himself.
But mental illness is invisible, complex, and often relentless. Despite huge effort, endless appointments, treatments, and hope, the illness proved too strong. He tried with extraordinary courage, and he was surrounded by love every step of the way.
The pain of losing Eamonn is unlike anything we have ever experienced, and the heartbreak of telling our children that their Uncle Eamo is gone is something we can barely put into words.
It’s a grief that hits on every level - shock, guilt, anger, confusion, love - all tangled together. Mental illness takes its toll on everyone - invisible, exhausting, and cruel. We take only the smallest comfort in believing that the darkness he fought so bravely has finally lifted, and he is at peace.
To anyone struggling: please seek help. Don’t battle alone. There is support, there is hope, and there are people who want nothing more than to keep you here.
Eamonn was only 39. A life so full, yet cut so unbearably short.
A Brother, an Uncle and a Bright Spark
We, as a family, offer our heartfelt thanks to everyone who supported us during this impossible journey.
A full list of those we wish to acknowledge is included in the memorial section of the December 16 issue of The Connaught Telegraph.
To Eamo, thank you for the memories, the stories, the wild nights, the soft moments, and the endless love you gave. Thank you for spoiling our kids; for the simple joys like salted caramel ice-cream and great music in the car; for the belly laughs and for the joy.
We hope you’ve found peace - with Mam, Dad, and all those waiting for you.
We will always, always love you.
Rest easy now, Uncle Eamo.
Fly high.
Love, your heartbroken family: Padraic, Rosemary, Tracy, Gillian, and Deirdre, in-laws Caroline, Declan, Ciaran, Mark and Tadhg. And your sixteen nieces and nephews.