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!
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I have known that over time, Americans have become withdrawn into themselves, for the most part.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?
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