Fair game now.
I have been fairly good about not getting excited about Ireland too early. I’m not sure what the etiquette is but we leave a week from tomorrow. I think if there is etiquette regarding this subject, one week is acceptable manners.
So consider this the prelude to me getting very excited. About Ireland. For many reasons.
One, it’s Ireland.
Duh. So cliche but it just fits.
Two, I will be spending cellphone-less, work responsibility- less, time with David.
Three, I will have UT and AC all to my self (and DB and C once she arrives-but this is my blog). And we already know we are compatible traveling companions. And we already know we never seem to run out of things to say. And we already know it is going to be a phenomenal trip. All other family members may now start being jealous.
Four, we will be riding bikes, potentially for a week. Uninterrupted biking in Ireland. Seems like a very powerful descriptive statement there.
Five, we will be showing Ireland to a niece for her very first time. Ireland is a magical place all by its self. Showing it and sharing it with someone for the first time is an experience all to it’s self. The first step on to Irish soil, we will see it. The first breath of Irish air, we will share it with her. The first vision of the stone, the rolling land, the colors of green not seen any where else, we will watch her glancing Ireland and soaking her in. The first taste of Irish brown bread, we’ll be hoping she loves it. The first scone, we know she will love it. The first Guinness. That will be presented to her by the Patriarch of our family. But I get to hug her first when she gets off the plane and we are standing right there, waiting for her, as giddy as can be, to show her Ireland.
Six, we will be meeting up with family that has always been there and always connected to us. Even when we did not “know” them. And we will introduce them to yet another cousin. She can see for her self how much the American cousins look like the Ireland cousins.
Seven, we will take ferries to tiny little islands that bear our family name. Our history. Our hearts.
Eight, we will climb over ruins of abbey’s, churches, castles and homes. The structures of Ireland that have stood for centuries or have been destroyed by history.
Nine, we will hear our native tongue and take comfort in the lilt, the laugh and the spark. When the Irish speak it is life it’s self.
Ten, we will want to pack up our worlds and bring them to Ireland to live. But knowing we can not we will pack up our stay and bring back joy and memories. And return to America, family, and great lives.
You can have two loves. Strong, powerful and individual. Love them equally love them differently. Call them both home.
It is fair game now! Ireland….here I come!