When he made his solemn vows at his ordination at the age of 24 in the dusty shafts of light at Bristol's Pro-Cathedral, Father Matthew Hayes knew he was handing over the rest of his life to his chosen vocation.

But as a fresh-faced young curate, he can't have imagined just how much service he was offering to the Roman Catholic Church.

Now aged 84, Canon Matthew Hayes – as he now is – still shuns the idea of retiring from his ministry.

Over the years he has served as a priest in parishes across the West Country. His work has taken him from the rural idylls of Somerset to the social deprivation of some of Bristol's poorest areas.

Father Matthew has just released the second part of his memoirs, Ever Loved But Lost Awhile. The book – which has taken him seven years to pen – recalls his schooldays in his native County Tipperary and the experiences of his seminary years.

"It's been a wonderful experience to stop and look back over the years," Father Matthew explains as he leads the way into the living room of his apartment above the St John's Church Presbytery.

The former Victorian school building, in Bath's South Parade, is now home to semi-retired priests who provide holiday cover for their younger counterparts across the South West.

"My memories of those early days seem clearer than ever," he says, as he carries in a tray of coffee and biscuits from the kitchen.

"My seminary years were such happy times," he adds, his lyrical Tipperary accent still strong after more than half a century away from home.

Father Matthew was born into a seemingly idyllic world – raised with his eight siblings on the farm that had been in the family for generations.

"I was born in 1924, and spent most of my childhood within a few miles of the farm," he says. "The nearest neighbours were a long way down the lane, and it really did seem very idyllic to me. But in fact, they were tough times for my parents. The politics of the era were complicated, and Britain had banned the import of Irish cattle. So the farm was suffering from hard times, though our parents never let us know anything about their struggle. We were left wanting for nothing.

"Remarkably, my parents even managed to find the money to pay the fee to send me to board at a secondary school run by a missionary order of priests called The Holy Ghost Fathers. It was only 12 miles away from home, but it was a whole new world for me. I might as well have been on the other side of the world, for as easy as it would have been for me to get home.

"I can remember being nervous and homesick at first, but I soon got used to boarding there, and had a good time with my new school friends.

"That was when I first started to take seriously the idea of becoming a priest myself.

"The idea had always been there somehow. I remember my parents asking if I'd like to be a priest when I was very young. I'd always been keen. There were a number of priests in my family, including my uncle, Canon John Hayes, who served as a parish priest in Bristol for many years."

In 1939, Father Matthew went to seminary school, to begin the gruelling six years of training for the priesthood. His parents arranged a place for him at the prestigious Prior Park College, in Bath – sparking Father Matthew's connection with the region that would endure for more than half a century.

"It is a very thorough training," he says. "They're checking that you not only have the intellectual ability to do the job, but also the right personality to play such a central role in a congregation. I had occasional doubts in my ability. Everyone does. That's what seminary is all about – working through your doubts and anxieties. But many of my young friends did leave the seminary before the end.

"It was always sad when someone you'd got to know decided the priesthood wasn't for him after all.

"But each young man had to make his decision."

Leaving the seminary, and being ordained at Bristol Pro-Cathedral at the age of 24, Father Matthew had plenty of challenges ahead of him.

"I was sent to Taunton, to work as a curate with the parish priest at St George's," he recalls. "That's where I learned my trade – often through trial and error. At that age, I'd not seen much of life, and I found myself having to offer help and advice to people who were much more worldly-wise than I was. But I saw my role as simply being there to offer love and support to members of the congregation when they needed it."

Father Matthew continued to work as a curate and an assistant priest at St Osmund's, Salisbury, and St Peter's, Gloucester, before finally being offered his own parish – the English Martyrs in Chard in 1964.

"It was wonderful to be offered my own parish," he says, "but it was also a great responsibility, to know the spiritual care of the congregation had been placed in my hands.

"But by then I had more than a decade's worth of experience of working as a priest in other parishes.

"I got hold of a list of the entire Catholic congregation of the area, and went around and knocked on everybody's door to introduce myself.

"I soon fitted in with the community. That part of Somerset was very like the County Tipperary of my youth. I knew and understood the concerns of the farming community."

But Father Matthew's great challenge came when he was transferred to the new council estates of Hartcliffe, on the edge of Bristol, in 1968.

"It was a whole new world for me," he says. "The estates had just been created as part of the move towards slum clearance in the centre of the city. These were poor people, but they were the salt of the earth. It was a wonderful experience for me to be able to gain their trust, and be there at the start, helping to create a whole new community.

"My first week there was the week of the Great Floods of 1968, so I hit the ground running, offering comfort and support to devastated families wherever I could. It was a difficult time for everybody – but at least it gave me an immediate role at the very heart of the community."

After eight years in Bristol, Father Matthew's vocation continued with a move to Combe Down, where he ministered until the age of 70.

"I could have retired then and gone home to Ireland, but I decided I could still play a useful role here," he says. "I believe my second vocation as a retired priest is to make myself available to my bishop and fellow priests in all the ways they may find me useful and helpful. My service is now to supply for them when needed.

"Ours is a friendly diocese in a lovely part of England; a diocese that has caring priests and deacons and sisters, and God's holy people who are loving and loyal. It is for them to judge what kind of priest these many years, schools and seminaries have made me. But God has the last word."

Ever Loved But Lost Awhile, priced £10, is published by Lisheen Publications, and is available from selected outlets, including St John's Church in South Parade, Bath.