Finding Ways to Pass the Time

After the confetti settled on the new year, Aidan was busy helping his mammy adjust to being home from such a long stay in the hospital, and it was not conceivable for him to return to the States so soon. We missed each other more and more but continued to find comfort in our Skype visits as often as we could, sharing Facebook messages and playing Words with Friends on our iPhones over a 3000 mile distance (he continues to kick my arse in that game, try as I might to beat him!) There's one thing I can promise you, with Aidan, anything and everything is fun. There hasn't been a day gone by that I don't feel loved beyond measure and full of smiles and joy with him in my life.

While all of that is wonderful and I'm thankful for it, it still doesn't fully take the place of being together in one room, and there are plenty of times when I just plain miss him like mad. Especially when the time difference is an issue -- my late evenings are when he's sound asleep, and in those moments, my heart melts for him and my mind wanders and I just want more of Aidan than I can get at the moment. Don't misunderstand, there's never a second of resentment over him being home in Ireland or hours of crying 'why is this happening to us.' It's just wistful daydreaming and missing the love of my life.

So what does a girl do?

Well, first I'll tell you what I can't do. I can't go to his American house and just be in his room and lay on his pillow when I miss him, because even that is 12 hours away. I can't jump on a flight to Dublin or Belfast (as much as I'm dying to do so) because it's just not feasible when I have kids in school and I'm in college. I also can't hang out with his close friends here in the States and commiserate over missing him (because all of America misses Aidan, yes, he IS that awesome) .. other than on Facebook, because his close friends are also 12 hours away.

What to do, what to do ... 

My sweet love, being Irish, is, well, IRISH. And if I really want more of Aidan (of course it's no secret that I want to spend my life getting to know more of Aidan) what better way (at least at the moment, when he's 3000 miles from me) than to embrace what it means to be Irish? I so admire the deep love he has for his heritage; it's a beautiful and meaningful part of who Aidan is and one more reason (of a million) that I love him so. And, as in any country, there is far more to being Irish than just having been born there. For the Irish, maybe more. While I cannot be there with him to experience all of it right now, there is plenty, I've discovered, that I can do here while I'm missing him.

While I knew some things about Ireland and Irish history, most of my knowledge was very textbook or music-related (Irish music stole my heart when I was a child, I always loved to dance to it and later play it on my dulcimer.) I just love to pick Aidan's brain ... Aidan is all too used to my many questions. I often will say, "I have a question for you..." to which he answers, "Oh, Love? Just one?" and laughs. Through Aidan, I'm learning about the Irish tea consumption, which far surpasses even China. I've learned that the kettle is always on and never dry. I've learned that the door is always open for family and friends to visit, and the meaning of the well-loved, always-used phrase, "What's the craic?" (Pronounced crack, meaning 'What's the news/gossip/fun?') I've also picked up on other slang that isn't necessarily as...Well, let's just say that one day I looked up Irish cuss words to make sure I could follow along. Not that Aidan cusses around me much at ALL, but the term bollocks was new to me (though my 17 year old son knew it right off!) Direct translation from Anglo-Saxon would be testicles .. But there are plenty of meanings for the word in everyday conversation, one of which is basically, rubbish or stupid. (I can only imagine my sweetheart cracking up when he reads THIS pastime of mine!! hehe) And, while I always heard it rains more in the UK than elsewhere, I now realize that in Ireland, IT RAINS. Cats and dogs. Buckets. Often. More often than often.

Those who know me know I am by far no stranger to language and culture outside of America. I was born with 'ants in my pants,' as Aidan would say, hungry to not only see the world but to experience it and become one with it (something he and I have very much in common, actually.) I have German and Romanian roots, and for as long as I can remember, I was hungry to discover everything I could pertaining to those roots, and certainly desperate to see where my family came from. While I haven't yet made it to Romania, I have spent time in Europe, more so in Germany and Austria than anywhere else. I learned very quickly many years ago that there are specific ways to learn about a culture: Language, food, music, film, history, and geography (and being in love with a native trumps all of them, I am finding out ;-) Lucky for me, it's the dead of winter and I'm missing my darling and I have hours to spend knee-deep in all-things-Irish (even though I'd rather be knee-deep in all-things-Aidan!)

And so, as the days turned into weeks and the weeks are now turning into months, I have watched countless hours of documentaries about Ireland's history, economy, the relationship with Britain, political and religious issues, and the dialects of Gaelic (there are three, Aidan taught me that, too!) Google has been very helpful. I found the top 10 Irish films and I've watched most of them, some multiple times. I have read translations of Irish slang and regional dialectal phrases. Listened to American pop songs sung in Gaelic (that language is a bugger to learn but just beautiful to listen to!) I've read recipes for Shepherd's Pie and soda bread. And, I've spent hours (too many to admit) reading about and searching for a pair of
Wellies.

Did I mention that Aidan's daddy keeps sheep? I LOVE sheep. I cannot wait to see the sheep. I know Aidan's family is going to think I'm completely off my rocker with how much I adore sheep. Regardless, it's a given that neither my pretty riding boots or my Uggs are appropriate sheep-visiting shoes. What a girl needs in rainy Ireland and with sheep are a good pair of Wellies -- Or, rubber rain boots, nicknamed Wellies because of their history, Wellington boots were named such because of Arthur Wellesley (1769-1862), the Duke of Wellington, who ordered his shoemaker to modify the then-popular Hessian 18th century boot to his design. Over time, well-to-do circles were sporting the special boots and they gained popularity. By the latter part of the 20th century, Wellingtons were synonymous with the Hunter brand of Scotland, though since then, many companies make Wellingtons, affectionately known as Wellies. (I wasn't exaggerating when I said I was a research-fanatic!) And oh did I scour the internet and eBay for a good deal on the often pricey wellies. And land some I did. Traditional (if there is such a thing) green (IRISH green!) Hunter Wellies, which I wore for a full day around here with tall, woolen knee socks, just to get used to the feel of them. What a hoot it's been.

I could go on for hours about all the interesting things I'm learning about the Irish and Ireland, but as I have said before, none of it takes the place of being with my sweet love. It does, though, pass the time, and I realize even more why the Irish hold such a deep-rooted love for their country. Not only is it exquisitely beautiful, but it is a heritage rich in history and tradition like none other. It is a culture easy to embrace and enjoy. It is a blessing to me that Aidan is willing to share such a heritage, and I am honored to be given the opportunity to experience it. But over and above all of that, it is Aidan's love I am most grateful for, and I cannot wait until the day comes when we can finally be in the same room together.

Tá grá agam duit, Aidan.