Fermoy native, Orla Barry is breaking barriers in one of Ireland’s most misunderstood professions – and proving that disability doesn’t define determination.
There are some people you meet and just know – they were born to do something different. Orla Barry is one of them.
At just 23, she’s what could be Ireland’s youngest embalmer. But it’s not her age that makes her remarkable. It’s that she’s done it all while living with profound hearing loss – and refusing to let it hold her back for even a second.
“I grew up with people telling me I couldn’t do things,” Orla says. “And I’ve always said, ‘watch me.’”
From an early age, Orla knew she wanted to do something meaningful – she just didn’t realise it would come from heartbreak. At 14, her grandmother passed away suddenly. The trauma was so intense she couldn’t bring herself to see her.
“I was terrified,” she tells All About Cork. “But my cousin Lisa dragged me in. And I’m so glad she did.”
Orla ended up putting her nana’s glasses back on her face – and in that moment, she looked like herself again. It was a turning point.
“I knew then and there I wanted to help people say goodbye in a way that felt real. That looked like the person they loved.”
It was a big dream for a teenager – and one that required even bigger guts to follow through on.
Orla worked in a factory in Fermoy while training with a local funeral home, learning the ropes and saving up every cent to pay for her tuition. She later trained under renowned embalmer David McGowan in Sligo – one of the few people in Ireland teaching the trade.
And she did it all while slowly losing her hearing.
Born hard of hearing, Orla lost the remainder of her left ear’s function in 2022. Today, she has just 20% hearing in her right ear. She doesn’t use a hearing aid – it only amplifies what she still can’t hear – so she lip reads, senses vibration, and relies on instinct.
“It can be scary, but I’ve adapted. I don’t know any different,” she says matter-of-factly.
Music, for example, is still a big part of her life – but not in the way most people experience it. “My dad’s a musician. I can feel the beat in my chest, in my neck. That’s how I hear it.”
And it’s that same feeling – that deep, physical connection – that Orla brings into her work.
She’s now based in Wicklow, working as both an embalmer and undertaker. She meets families at the hardest point in their lives, and she does it with gentleness, humour, and a fierce sense of purpose.
“People think it’s all dark and depressing. But actually, it’s full of love,” she says. “Every detail matters – the lipstick someone wore, how they did their hair, the little touches that made them who they were. We’re not magicians, but we do our best to bring that person back, even just for a moment.”
It’s not easy work. Some days break your heart. But Orla wouldn’t do anything else.
“When I leave the room, that’s when I let myself cry. But when I’m with someone, it’s about giving them dignity. That’s what keeps me going.”
She laughs when she talks about telling people what she does for a living. “Sometimes I just say I’m studying to be a teacher – otherwise it’s either a million questions or people leg it!”
But Orla’s not afraid of the questions. In fact, she welcomes them.
Because for her, talking about death isn’t morbid – it’s human. It’s how we take the fear out of something that’s waiting for every single one of us.
“We need to talk about it more. It’s going to happen to all of us.”
Her dream? To open her own funeral home. To teach others how to do this work – especially the ones who’ve been told they’re not able.
“That’s the message I want to give. That disability doesn’t define you. That it doesn’t have to stop you. If I can do it, anyone can.”
Orla Barry isn’t just an embalmer. She’s a quiet disruptor. A woman rewriting the script.
And the best part? She’s only getting started.
