Home

I have started and deleted a new post a dozen times. We have done SO much and gone to so many different places in the last six weeks that I have found it impossible to keep up with my writing. Needlesstosay, I absolutely LOVE it here and I can't believe that in six days, I will head back home to America.

Six weeks ago, when I began meeting people here in Ireland, I was often asked, "When did you get home?" or "How long have you been home?" and at the time I found it a little odd because this isn't home to me, I had never been here before, and "home" is in the States. I don't know for sure why that question was asked that way, perhaps it has something to do with the 1000s of Irish that have left this country to go to America or Australia and have periodically returned, that it became natural to ask "When did you get back home?" Surely it didn't apply to me, an American girl visiting Ireland for the first time. But now, finding myself on the other side of six weeks, it makes perfect sense, somehow. This does feel like home. And I want this to be a home for me, ... for us.

No, I'm not moving here (at the moment, anyway.) But Aidan's family and friends have welcomed my daughter and I completely, just as one of their own, from the moment we arrived. If anyone had any reservation in doing so, it was by far not noticeable. I love spending time with all of them. I have had such fun getting to know so many people around here, and I am grateful for the relationships and friendships I now have with them. To the point that I can't fathom going home next week and being without them.

Above everything, my heart is aching because Aidan is not able to fly home with us next week. The flights over the summer months are very expensive, and coupled with the fact that his job ended right after I arrived here, there just isn't a way to afford a ticket just yet. He promises he'll be working and saving and coming to Michigan very soon, and as much as I believe that, I still hurt inside. We survived seven months separated by 3000 miles, and before that, we were separated by 12+ hours in two different states. Now, we have spent nearly every waking second together for over six weeks, sharing everything from morning coffee, to prayer together, to TV time, to spending time with his family, to grocery shopping --- Life. We have lived daily life together here in Ireland. I don't want to think about waking up next Thursday morning at home and being without him. Let alone day after day. I wish we'd won the lottery some Thursday here in Leitrim, where it's up to over 12,000 pounds. Then we could go home to Michigan together next week.

But on top of that, as if it weren't enough, I have become so close to his family that they feel like my family. We have had such a ball. I've been out shopping with just the girls, causing trouble in Ikea together and just having "girl talk" times. I've picked on Aidan's brother for his vanity and called him a ham, a term his wife just happily adopted for her funny husband. When the twins pop over for a visit, I'm just dying to see them again, those two funny little red heads have stolen my heart. Sheenagh, who is married to Aidan's youngest brother, has a large happy family who has also just included me from the beginning, and her sisters' daughters have befriended Jillian, too. I recently told my mom back home that when I think of what I'll miss the most -- considering the beautiful landscape, the quaint, narrow roads that go up and down and curve all over the place, the crashing waves of the Irish Sea, the Mourne Mountains in the distant horizon, the sheep in every other field, the gorgeous accent all around me with the singsongy lilt, after considering all of that -- I have to honestly say over all of it, I'll miss this wonderful lot of family and friends the most. I think a big piece of my heart will be left here in this Emerald Isle, and I will long for all of the beauty, but I will be lonely for these sweet people I can now call my own.

Over the years I've heard it said that "home is where your heart is,"  and also that "home is where you hang your hat." I think it's a combination of the two. My home is in Michigan with my kids and my dog and my family and my house and my lake. But home is here where the green hills and stone fences make me cry and the wind off the Irish Sea whispers my name and the sheep let me love them and laugh at them.

My time with Aidan has been precious. We were in love long before I arrived here -- for sure. But living together, we've seen more of each other than any couple does living apart or visiting for random weekends. Aidan dances with me in the living room to old country tunes on his iPod. I watch him as goosebumps pop up all over his arms when he hears steel guitar. I am touched at his chuckle every time we hear Jillian giggling at her computer while she wears headphones in the next room, and Aidan says, "I love that girl." Aidan doesn't care about my morning hair or my morning breath or my dumpy days when I'm overtired from sightseeing and running roads -- he makes me feel like a beautiful princess no matter what. When I least expect it, he comes off with some Irish phrase or joke and I can't help but to break out in laughter. He always has me laughing.

And then there's Dublin.

We have traveled all over the North -- and seen all six counties here, as well as three in the Republic. I can't imagine how many hundreds of miles we've covered in the last six weeks. We've had our feet in the Atlantic, sat up over the ocean on the craggy cliffs, walked the Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge with the waves crashing against the rock far below. We've toured two very old gaols (jails) -- one in Belfast and one in Dublin. Speaking of Belfast -- seeing the huge murals and the peace wall in person was sobering. We've just done so much. But one of the last trips we've taken was by train to Dublin.

Dublin is a city that has always drawn me in. It symbolizes music and culture and laughter and history. It's a place I've always hoped to visit. Now, I've visited many major world cities, Frankfurt, Munich, Hambourg, Lucern, Vienna, Toronto, NYC, Chicago - and many, many more. I knew I'd probably love Dublin, but I had no idea I'd really love Dublin.

I was again immediately home in that city, ironically. It's a huge town but feels quaint. There are scores of immigrants and college students and visitors there, and loads of history. The architecture is stunning. The river running through the city with several bridges is a calm in the middle of the bustle. What a fabulous town. We spent the day on a double decker tour bus, hopping off and on when we came to a place to tour or see. But by the time we had to head back to the train station, I was NOT ready to leave. Dublin and its nightlife and live music was something I was dying to see and experience before I have to head back home to the States. Of course we couldn't stay -- we had to get back. But Aidan and I both are in Dublin withdrawal, and for my last weekend here in Ireland, he and I are heading back alone and spending Saturday and Sunday in Dublin. Jillian is going to stay with the twins. I'm so looking forward to wandering the streets of Dublin, taking it all in, and unwinding on Saturday night by finding music sessions in some of the dozens of pubs, and maybe even some dancing. What a city. Aidan and I both said we'd happily live in Dublin. How and when and doing what, we have no idea, but that is something that I will keep as a possibility in my mind and in my heart. It's only about an hour from here, where Aidan's family is and where the rolling hills of County Down wait for us. How perfect would that be? Oh and the music!! I just can't wait to get back to Dublin.

So yes, my time here in Ireland has been heavenly. Jillian has enjoyed every little ounce of it too, in fact she just lost a tooth yesterday and the Irish Tooth Fairy gave her a whopping 10 pound note! Good Grief. That's crazy money for a tooth but Jillian is bouncing off the walls and can't wait to spend it.

Oh my heart aches. I'm not ready for this to end yet -- actually, it will never end. Ireland will always be here waiting for our return, and I will look forward to being asked, "When did you arrive back home?" the next time I get here. Sweet Ireland, I love you.

Ireland, I'm Coming Home by Garth Brooks

It's a Blur

I cannot FATHOM that so much time has already passed. We've been here already for three weeks as of tomorrow. I don't want to think about the fact that we only have four weeks left, seeing as how this last segment of time just flew.

While I had intended on a day to day blog update, it just hasn't been feasible with everything we've been doing. We have had full days out and about and sometimes more than one in succession, and when we do finally have a day or two just here at home, I'm usually dog-tired (a happy tired, mind you), digesting everything that we've just experienced, catching up on laundry and such, and just spending much-needed downtime with Aidan. I apologize, but too often I just couldn't focus (or stay awake!) on writing!

I don't even know where to begin as far as bringing our story up to date. Aidan's family has been continually so kind and loving to us, showing us around this beautiful country and helping out by taking me shopping or just out for "girl time." I have grown so close to so many here, that I already have to hold back tears when I think about leaving. I don't want to say that I'm "too much" at home here, but on the other hand, I do feel so at home that it's hard to comprehend my home back home, if that makes sense. I was in a shop the other day and saw batteries for sale and immediately thought, "Oh I need to pick these up for Ethan," because only a few hours before I had chatted with him back home and he was looking around the house for batteries -- and then it hit me, ummm no, it wouldn't do me any good to pick up batteries here -- over 3000 miles away from where he needs the batteries. That, my friends, is how blurred my home here and my home there have become in my head. As if I could just run over and drop off batteries to my son.

On top of that, my ingrained, incessant need to decorate and nest is hard to suppress. I realize this little home here is only temporary, but when I'm cooking in the kitchen or changing a bed even, I hear that old familiar chit-chat in my head about something that would go here or there from Ikea, and oh yes, I could hang [some random print] on the wall there, or "next time I'm at the store I should pick up a matching rug for the living room." It's ridiculous really, how quickly my mind and body shifted from "just visiting/vacationing" mode to "domestic/living here/this is home" mode. I love it, and yet I hate it at the same time. I tone down those voices and remind myself I'm leaving in only four weeks, and then I get all mushy/teary about leaving. Such is life at the moment!

I've found things here that I absolutely love. I love how people are so interconnected with one another. Neighbors or friends or family just drop in throughout the day, every day. The kettle is always on, as they say. Everyone knows all the neighbors here. Back at home, if someone drops in, it's almost a shock. I've lived in my neighborhood for almost three years and I only know a few of our neighbors, and "know" is a word I use loosely. I know their first names and wave or say a few words over the fence or on the street as we pass by. That isn't really knowing them.

I have known that over time, Americans have become withdrawn into themselves, for the most part. Their idea of staying in touch has more to do with a Facebook connection than an in-person connection. In stores, or on the street, rarely do strangers speak or even make eye contact: Everyone is either on a mission or so guarded that they wear an invisible shield around themselves so as not to let anyone in. Or perhaps it's also our American fear to trust anyone these days. Sure we've had plenty of crime and reasons to be guarded or cautious, but what has that done to us as a people?

I've said many times before that I'd heard all my life that the Irish are friendly, and even that there are no friendlier people on the planet than the Irish. And I adore that about them. But what is it about this culture that allows them to retain such open hearts and smiling faces and unparalleled generosity? It's no secret that the Irish have long been oppressed, this country's history is peppered with a roller coaster of economic difficulties and battles for independence and a united Ireland. The Troubles, which continued to shake and haunt Northern Ireland for thirty years -- and the residual effects that still continue (and there are many) -- have not beaten the warmth and hospitality of this country. Yet, most Americans have not experienced the horrors that many here have, (though yes, we as a country have our own issues, of course) -- and as it is, most Americans seclude themselves and close themselves off so much that we as a people have often given the impression that we are aloof or unfriendly. Have I heard that opinion about Americans from anyone here? Absolutely not once. But staying in another culture -- I learned this many years ago -- you almost learn more about yourself and your own culture back home than you do the new one. There's something to be said about getting away, to make you reflect on your own country, your own life, your own person.

Please don't misread this. I love America and my blood runs red, white, and blue. I love my home and I miss my family and friends desperately. But I cherish not only this amazing chance to get to know life here in Ireland from a non-tourist perspective (living day to day, "normal" life in a house rather than hotel to hotel, touring around, even though that is also a phenomenal experience) but also this time of reflection. I always have believed that we can take away something from every experience, and make it our own. My time in Germany over the years also opened my eyes to many things and there are wonderful bits I've adopted into my life from there, just like I already find I'll be doing from here. The beauty in this, though, is that my time here in Ireland isn't really temporary. I have the best, ongoing souvenir possible: I get to keep my Irishman. :-)

Speaking of the Irishman: What an irony this has been. My mind is focused on my surroundings, the beauty, the people, the tea and biscuits, the history, the animals, the accent I love to listen to -- yet my sweet Aidan talks daily about getting back to America. Things we'll do together, things we'll do with all the kids, him getting to spend time with my family finally, trips he wants us to take around the States. We are a pair, he and I. I watch his eyes light up and hear the excitement in his voice when he speaks of returning to America -- and yet I listen and hear in my own head, "Oh stop, just for a few weeks, I want to think about being here..." The amazing thing about this added dynamic to our relationship and to the love and connection we have is this: Never would there be a time that he would want to come home to Ireland where I would ever respond with anything but overwhelming joy to go with him -- and likewise, never would he resist my needing to live in the States to be close to my family and my kids, as they finish up their schooling. We are in love with each other and at the same time in love with each other's heritage -- and that is a beautiful way to be in love.

Oh the places we've seen since we got here. The luscious green hills and the old houses that pepper the countryside; the one-room schoolhouse that Aidan and his siblings attended as children, now empty and dilapidated, but what an experience to see it with him. Caves underground that must be hundreds of years old; peaceful shrines for prayer and the echoes of the waves of the Irish Sea; ancient gravestones and celtic rock placements; what makes me even happier is hearing Aidan and his family talk about how much more of their own country they've seen or learned about since Jillian and I arrived. I love to experience new things here at the same time they do, it makes it even more exciting!

And the sheep. Stop my beating heart, the sheep. I became so attached to the two little lambs behind our house that I about burst into tears when Aidan's daddy had to return them to the herd a few days ago. I haven't yet gone up to visit them in the field, but I will soon. And Aidan's cousin and her boyfriend took me all over his family's farmland, up and down hills, over creeks, and inside an abandoned old house -- I got to pet cows (and had a calf suck on my hand, -- now THAT was truly something new!) I have taken 100s and 100s of photos ( I will post many here eventually) -- and even recorded the large herd of sheep bleating so I can go back and listen to it forever like a soundtrack of a favorite film.

Being here and seeing myself find joy in such little things as cleaning or ironing or taking a quiet walk or waking up in the morning even, has made me realize what a funk I'd gotten into at home. I think it was a combination of things, really -- being away from Aidan so long, and as such, being in and not going out very often at all ... and being overwhelmed with full time studies, too ... Anyway, it's nice to unwind and feel life again.

And hearing the sheep ... and the rooster ... and smelling the fresh, Irish, country air everyday .... is a little piece of heaven <3 Who's ready for a cup of tea?