"Every morning, the first thing that goes through my head is Kelly'

Mum-of-six, Julieanne Lynch, from Lisnaskea, drove along the A27, approaching the Co Armagh town of Tandragee.

She could hardly concentrate on the road ahead. She found it hard to pay attention to the chatter of four-year-old Finn or concerned questions from 12-year-old Poppy.

A gut feeling sat in the pit of her stomach.

The events of the past 24 hours had left her fearing the worst.

Suddenly, her phone rang. Each chime was a sinking knell. Her heart began to race.

She took a deep breath and answered.

At the end of the line, the deep voice of a Garda officer.

“Are you the next of kin of Kelly Lynch?”, he asked.

Julieanne could hardly utter a response. She instinctively began to plead.

“Is everything ok? Is everything alright?” she whimpered.

A pause.

“...I am very sorry to inform you that your daughter, Kelly Lynch, is deceased.”

For a split second, time stood still.

The oncoming road merged into a blur. The lines between reality and nightmare merged.

Stunned silence immediately turned to sorrow. Finn and Poppy screamed out in despair. Julieanne wept inconsolably.

With that one call, the lives of the entire Lynch family were shattered into a million pieces.

‘Worry’ The devastating news that 23-year-old Kelly had been found dead in a canal in Monaghan was the unthinkable climax of a day of worry and dread for her family.

Early Saturday morning, Julieanne sensed that something wasn’t right.

She knew her daughter was in Monaghan with her boyfriend, as she often did.

However, she always kept in touch. This morning, she wasn’t answering her calls.

Julieanne rang a total of 19 times that day, desperate to hear her daughter’s voice.

By 9pm that night, she was beside herself with worry.

“Maybe she is sleeping...” Julieanne told herself, tossing and turning. “Maybe she has had too much to drink...maybe she is just busy...”

She drifted off to sleep, hoping, praying, to hear word from Kelly by the morning.

10am, still nothing. The walls began to close in around her.

At this stage, Julieanne decided that on the way down to a planned family dinner in Fermanagh, they would go via Monaghan to check up on Kelly.

Trying to keep her composure, she packed Finn and Poppy into the car and set off.

At 12.25, Julieanne received an ominous phone call from the PSNI. It proved to be a devastating precursor to the call from the Garda almost 40 minutes later.

The female officer told Julieanne to keep her phoneline clear, and to expect a call from Garda Síochána.

No explanation was offered, other than the call was about her daughter.

Questions raced through Julieanne’s head.

“Why would ask for someone’s next of kin, unless it’s something bad?” she thought.

Minutes passed like hours.

The phone call 42 minutes later confirmed the worst.

In an instant, the Lynch family’s world was changed forever.

‘A blur’ Almost six weeks on and the pain and trauma of that day remain fresh. The wounds opened that day haven’t come close to healing.

These days, the Lynch family home now in Armagh remains busy. People come and go, and life tentatively continues on.

But things haven’t been the same since Kelly’s passing.

In the family living room, numerous photos of Kelly are displayed, depicting the countless good times.

In one, Kelly is pictured walking the beach with Sean. In another, she smiles with her brother, Kristopher. These are memories that the family will forever cherish.

Speaking in what was her first face-to-face interview since she heard the devastating news, Julieanne fought back the tears.

“We just wanted to see her ... we just wanted to hold her,” she said.

In the background, the shenanigans of Finn could faintly be heard in the next room. Julieanne knows that she has to remain strong for the family she has left.

Memories of that day remain a blur, she revealed.

While she remembers that devastating phone call from Gardai like it was “five minutes ago”, she can scarcely remember the journey back from Tandragee to break the news to her two older sons, Matthew, and Rory.

Initially, Julieanne pleaded with officers to see Kelly in Monaghan, and Garda, at first, agreed.

However, she was then informed that it wouldn’t be possible, as Kelly had to be transported to Navan for an autopsy, and any contact could impact DNA evidence.

“We never even got to see Kelly before she was rolled out,” Julieanne sobbed. “That is something that I will have to live with for the rest of my life.

“I wasn’t allowed to go and kiss her one last time. Touch her, see her, spend those last moments with her. That was all taken from me.”

Instead, Sunday evening was spent preparing Kelly’s death announcement for Funeral Times. The family were keen to put to rest speculation that was surfacing on social media.

Finally, at 3pm the next day, they were given the chance to see Kelly in Navan.

Julieanne still vividly remembers the feeling of going into the room to see her daughter lifeless.

“We were brought into a small room, the windows were quite high up. Kelly’s body was facing towards me, her body covered a big purple blanket up to her chin.

“Instantly, I knew it was her. I knew her eyebrows. But her hair was all matted. She just looked so little and young. It’s something I never thought I’d have to witness.”

Julieanne took charge of doing her hair and her makeup for the last time. She insisted that her piercings, which had been taken out, were put back in, but they weren’t.

“It’s what she would have wanted,” said Julieanne, adding that even in death, Kelly was “stunning”.

“I don’t think she truly believed how stunning she was.

“To me, she was a model, she was just perfect in every way. Even with her flaws.”

The funeral was incredibly hard for everyone. The news of Kelly’s sudden passing sent shockwaves through the close-knit family circle.

“The natural cycle of life had been shifted,” Julieanne recounted. “It should have been Kelly choosing my coffin, not me choosing hers.”

The funeral took place at Holy Cross Church, in Kelly’s native Lisnaskea, Family, friends, and the local community gathered to pay their final respects.

Julieanne said she will never forget the shouts of four-year-old Finn, as the coffin was lowered into the ground.

"No, don't put her in there, take her out of the ground!” shouted the toddler.

From young to old, hearts were ripped in two.

‘Pain’ Speaking on the death of a loved one is never easy, but it is especially hard in such tragic circumstances.

But for the Lynchs, feelings stretch far beyond the normal patterns of grief and mourning.

In amongst the pain and trauma, feelings of anger, violation and wrongdoing abound.

Julieanne said that she is “seething” at Gardai’s handling of Kelly’s death, from the “insensitive” phone call from the officer on March 17, to what she feels is an “ongoing failure” to properly investigate the case.

She has already taken the case to The Garda Síochána Ombudsman Commission (GSOC), an independent organisation that deals with complaints from the public about members of the force.

She feels the true details of Kelly’s death will come out in the open. She is adamant that justice will be served.

“I am a firm believer that, in my opinion, that there was an altercation that day,” Julieanne said. “Kelly did not enter the water, which was only two inches deep, out of her own volition.

“Her death is highly suspicious. If the guards don’t start listening, I will be getting more vocal.”

Julieanne’s concerns with Gardai are wide-ranging.

“The lack of getting immediate statements is one thing we are concerned about,” she said.

“There were people at the scene, but we know that no one was brought in for statements immediately.”

“Why weren’t they questioned? Isn’t that the first thing that should have been done? It’s a crime scene as far as our family is concerned.

“Why weren’t people directly contacted? Why did they take people’s details, yet never contact them?

“Without a doubt, they (Gardai) weren’t doing their jobs properly. We have gotten no reassurance or apology. All we get is ‘no comment’.

Julieanne also feels that herself and her family have not been kept informed about the ongoing investigation.

“We want to know where the investigation is at now, and at what point does it change from being ‘Sudden, non-suspicious’, to ‘suspicious’?

“We shouldn’t be asking these questions nearly six weeks after Kelly died. Do they have a line of enquiry as regards her last moments? What evidence has been procured from the scene?

“Thus far, we are in the dark.”

When asked about the concerns of the Lynch family and for an update on the investigation, a Garda spokesperson said that as an inquest file is currently being prepared, no further comment could be made.

“In relation to the death of a woman in Monaghan town on the March 17, 2024, a post-mortem was completed by the State Pathologist,“ a statement said.

“As a result of the preliminary findings and consultation with the State Pathologist, the focus of this investigation moved towards the completion of an inquest file for the coroner.

“As the preparation of the Inquest file is ongoing, no further comment is available at this time.”

For the Lynch family, an ongoing “lack of answers” has compounded their grief. At this stage, Julieanne feels there is little scope for “local resolution” with the authorities.

“Too much time has passed, and with all the lack of clarity and communication, it’s unforgivable,” she said.

She also added that the inquest could take, at a minimum, 18 months, and described the wait as “something that will kill us; it will age us”.

‘Questions’ In the living room, set apart from the numerous photos of Kelly was another, larger picture, atop the windowsill.

The gentle daylight illuminated the photo of Kelly, again pictured with her renowned smile. It was the last photo that Julieanne ever took of her.

“This was taken before she was going bowling and mini-golfing,” she said. “It’s the last photo I took of her.

“She had such a beautiful face. She was so full of life.”

Julieanne continued: “She just had this energy about her. Even her laugh, it was a cackle, a raucous laugh. Once she started laughing, it was a full belly laugh.

“It was contagious, and you would join in laughing with her. Sometimes you would have to tell her to tone it down a bit. But Kelly was Kelly!”

Kelly’s infectious personality won her many friends, and while she enjoyed an active social life, home was where she felt most secure.

“She was a homebird, and she joked that she was going to be at home forever, that she was never going to move out!” Julieanne smiled.

“She felt secure at home. She always wanted to come for spins with me. She had a bit of social anxiety, but she was getting better. She would come everywhere with me, for the simplest of things.”

As natives of Lisnaskea, Julieanne stated that going back to Fermanagh is especially hard.

They have countless fond memories of Kelly’s time in the county, which was a period of her life characterised by family, friends, and fun times.

“I don’t think she realised how much all her school friends (at St Kevin’s College) thought of her,” she said.

“When we moved up here (Co Armagh) she lost touch with people, but she did remain close with two of her friends, Erika and Caitlin.

“Right up until her passing, she had a very close relationship with them.”

After finishing secondary school, Kelly then enrolled in a course that would enable her to work with children. And while Covid put a pause on these plans, she was preparing to re-enrol in the course in September.

“She was brilliant with little kids,” Julieanne said. “She had a natural nurturing nature. She was so good with Finn, in understanding him and helping him express his emotions. She had such a bright future.”

‘Speculation’ Indeed, Julieanne feels that her daughter’s immediate plans for the future rule out speculation that her death was suicide.

Rumours of this nature were rampant on social media in the aftermath of Kelly’s death – something was “hurtful” for the family, and only made a tragic situation worse.

“Kelly wasn’t suicidal, she had hopes and dreams for the future,” Julieanne said.

“A week after she passed away, Poppy went into her room and found a little note Kelly had made.

“It was a list for the new year. She had written down a list of what she wanted to accomplish in 2024.

“We had plans, immediate plans. We were all going out for Rory’s birthday on April 5. She was booked to get her hair and nails done.

“Why make all those plans? If someone is suicidal, they settle everything. They don’t go out and book their next hair appointment.

“Of this, I am 100 per cent certain. I can feel it in my soul.”

Tragically, Kelly’s plans for the future were extinguished far too soon; and along with them, her family’s hopes for tomorrow have been all but snubbed out.

“I can’t think beyond tomorrow, I am just taking things one day at a time,” Julieanne said.

“It’s all about surviving from one day to the next. I can’t make plans, but I try to find at least one thing to smile about every day, purely for the children. We have to make memories for them.

“I wake up in the morning and the first thing that goes through my head is Kelly. It’s always Kelly.

“But for right now it’s about learning to cope and live with this loss. We have accepted she is gone, and we aren’t in denial.

“But the circumstances around her death are stopping us from grieving properly.”

The past six weeks have been a whirlwind of emotions for Julieanne, oscillating from intense grief and sorrow to anger and bewilderment.

“I’m not the same person I was six weeks ago,” concluded Julieanne, her gaze still fixed on the last ever photo taken of her beloved daughter.

“I am not the same person anymore. I am forever changed.”