The Inevitable Journey Home, Well - to North America

Tuesday night. Only hours left between breathing Irish air, and flying back over the Atlantic. Only hours left ...

We came home late after the last family gathering, the night before Jillian and I would fly back home. Poor Jillian. She was nauseous -- it had grown increasingly worse at Aidan's cousin's house, and half way to Leitrim, we had to pull the car off the road because she was sick. She got sick once more at home before she finally lulled off to sleep, and I prayed by morning she'd be returned to health. Long flights are dreadful anyway -- but having the stomach flu at the same time? Hell nightmare.

While she dozed off, I was able to finish packing for the both of us. I was so tired, and trying to keep my mind on the task at hand and not the goodbyes that were ahead of me. I finally crawled into bed next to Aidan one last time after bedtime prayer together. I found it hard to sleep, because I knew once I closed my eyes, the next time I opened them it would be morning and we'd be leaving. I just don't want to go....

Don't get me wrong. I missed my family, my dog, my bed. But I felt completely at home with Aidan in Leitrim, too. I felt ... torn. Torn between the two. At least now I knew Aidan would be following me in a few weeks, but even that brought a bit of pain with it because I could only imagine how hard it would be for he and his family to say goodbye. He hadn't been back to Ireland in years, and they finally got their Aidan back, and now he'd be away again. I didn't want them to resent me for being the reason he left again, either. I love them so. Like family, I just love them to pieces.

Somehow I slept, and somehow I woke and found myself on Wednesday morning, not wanting to get out of bed. Thankfully Jillian slept all night and was feeling back to normal. Perhaps it was all the emotion that had made her sick. I was just so thankful she was well for the long day ahead.

As much as I wanted to wander down to the kitchen with Aidan and enjoy our daily morning coffee and chat as we did everyday, I knew I had little time to get ready and wrap things up before his sister came to fetch us for the airport. I got ready as fast as I could, once again trying to focus on the task instead of the bigger picture of us leaving. And somehow it all got done, everything packed up and downstairs, myself looking half human (all in black, the one outfit I hadn't had the chance to wear while there, and seemingly all too appropriate for the feeling of this day.) We finished up getting ready with enough time to have tea with Aidan's parents and aunt next door before Fionnuala arrived.

But before we walked next door through the back, there was a rap on our front door. Aidan opened the door to find a red, teary-eyed Declan. His brother had come to say goodbye one last time on his way to work. I was floored. He came in and gave me a giant bear hug, making me cry all over again. He told me how much they loved me, and that in no way could he do what I was doing -- leave after getting so close to everyone. It was so hard. I felt so cared for in that moment, by a new brother. I was again very thankful for the gift Aidan was so openly sharing with me -- the gift of his family accepting me into "their ones." (Aidan had asked me many times over the seven weeks, "Do your ones wanna be a part of our ones?" The sweet way the Irish ask you to be part of the family.) And as quick as Declan came, he was gone again, off to work. What a sweetheart for stopping by one last time.

Oh the pain. Walking next door for what I knew would be the last time. Aidan's aunt made me toast, we hadn't had time to eat, and I still don't know how I managed to swallow. I was holding it together but barely. Then Fionnuala arrived with a big bag of gifts from the family! I was STUNNED. Gift after gift, lovely Irish items for our American home, to remind us of our Irish home. And a beautiful bracelet from Sheenagh, and an Irish doll for Jillian, my goodness. How I held back the tears I'll never know. Time was ticking, Fionnuala reminded us that we had to leave in a few minutes, so I rushed back to our place to try to find a way to pack all of these precious new gifts. By the hand of God I got them all to fit in the carry-ons. Aidan took out all the bags to the car while I zipped back over to say final goodbyes to his family. I knew it was going to be hard, but I never guessed it would THIS hard.

I took one look at Aidan's daddy, who stood before me and said, "Ok, Pet .." and went to give me a hug, and I lost it. Completely LOST IT. I was sobbing and hugging him. I adored this man. For giving me Aidan, for raising him to be loving and giving and forgiving and God-fearing and sweet-hearted and open. For opening his home and his heart to Jillian and to me. For bringing me sausage rolls nearly every day and for keeping the lambs in the garden longer than planned so I could enjoy them. What a kind and gentle soul. I didn't want to say goodbye. And my tears brought Aidan's daddy to tears. It was beautiful and horrible all at the same time. Finally we parted and I thanked him again and before I could blink he whisked himself off out of the room. I hugged and kissed Aidan's mammy, once again crying and her crying, as she said, "Now don't you forget about us, come back to see us. Don't forget!" What an amazing message from this sweet woman who is suffering from the onset of Alzheimer's. She too, I was so thankful for, because of the man Aidan became. Surely he inherited her sense of humor, she cracked me up all summer long. I wouldn't forget her, them, this place, this amazing time here. Not now, not ever. And final hugs from Aunt Anne, what a spunky woman she is. I'll miss her too and her gossip and tidbits that she poured out everyday like the tea. Oh this family. My heart was aching. Aching.

I don't even remember how I made it out to the car and into the backseat with Jillian. My face was tear stained and my heart was shattered. I couldn't make myself turn and look back our front door one last time because I knew I'd be sobbing all over again. This wonderful place that welcomed me home. Home. I felt like I was leaving home.

Hills of Leitrim 

And the car zipped up and down and around and in and out these blessed, narrow, windy, hilly roads of County Down, one last time with me in the back, and the now-familiar flip-flop butterflies the hills and curves gave my stomach. I squinted through tears at the church, the cemetery, the houses, the stone fences, the sheep, the cows, .... all whizzing past me too fast out the window. I wanted to scream for the car to stop so  I could just get out and run back to our little house at Riverside Terrace and make a cup of tea in our little kitchen with the quietly buzzing refrigerator and the ticking lime green wall clock I bought at the Pound store. Where Aidan's daddy would soon come rapping on our kitchen window as we answered back, "Just come in the door!" as he asked Aidan to come sit with his mammy so he could go tend to the sheep. I wanted to go back to stare out at the Mourne Mountains and wonder what it was like to live up so high and look down at this majestic green valley. I wanted to be anywhere in this country except in a car on the way to Dublin airport.

Aidan reached his arm into the backseat to hold my hand across my lap. It was hard to look at him. I did not want to leave him. Even with his flight booked, I didn't want to say goodbye. And then Fionnuala began to tell me what I meant to the family, and asked me if I knew what I had done to their daddy. She had walked into the house and saw her daddy crying with me, a sight not so often, if ever, seen in that house, her daddy was in tears. And then Aidan told her about their Declan showing up in tears that morning, too. Fionnuala's message was loud and clear: I had become family. I was part of their ones now.

Holding back tears at the airport

Somehow we made it to the airport and parked in the structure. Aidan found a cart for all of our piles of bags, and I began to worry about them making it on the plane. The weight, the number of carry-ons, the fact that I was hauling our big biscuit tin chock full of Irish biscuits -- and a rolled up bag of Irish turf from cousin Michael in Co Tyrone, traditionally carried across the Atlantic by the Irish as they emigrated to the States, to remind them of home, and to bring warmth to their new American hearth. What if they tried to confiscate it out of my bag? I couldn't bear the thought of it. But worse, saying goodbye to my fiancé and to my new sister was killing me.

We made our way to the Air Canada desk and Jillian and I checked in our luggage --- no issues, thank God. They were an acceptable weight. We hit the restrooms once again and realized we had time to kill, so we all went to McDonald's to eat, though Fionnuala nailed it when she said this was prolonging the agony and why are we even trying to eat together one more time? This was so painful, going through these last moments together.

Finally we walked to the security line where only passengers could cross. This dreaded moment had arrived. Hugs and kisses all around, Jillian and I said our goodbyes. And then, one last hug and kiss for Aidan and I. He handed me a 2-pound coin, which signified that I would indeed return. And he held me in his arms, kissed me, and told me how much he loved me one more time. And then .. Aidan was overcome with tears. He wept and I wept and we held each other like there was no tomorrow. It was the most painful moment ever. I will never forget it for as long as I live. My sweet Aidan.

We parted and Jillian and I headed for security. I looked back and saw Aidan standing there, waving. I blew him a kiss through my tears and waved at my new sweet sister, and we walked around the corner where I could no longer see them. Poor Jillian tried hard to make me feel better, her little arms around me saying, "It's OK Mom, we'll come back and spend next summer here too!" I took some cleansing, deep breaths, mopped off my face, gathered our way-too-heavy bags, passports, boarding passes, and headed through the line. Now the adrenaline was kicking in. Now it was just a matter of getting from Point A to Point B. Focus on the task, not the heartache. Focus. I told myself over and over. I was wringing wet with sweat and exhaustion. We made our way to the X-ray inspections and sure enough, my heavy, bright yellow bag got flagged. That was the one with the turf in it. We stood at the end of the checkpoint and the guard told me that he had to empty the bag and send it back through. "No problem!" I said. He was very apologetic and very nice about it, which I was thankful for. Anything less and I probably would have started crying all over again. Thanks be to God, they didn't take the turf. I think the problem was that I had packed SO much into that bag and so tightly that they couldn't be sure the machine was seeing all the way through it. When it all came back through, the guard asked if I preferred to repack the bag. Gladly. God knows I had it down to a science.

The only thing left on my agenda was to run through a shop and buy an Irish Brides magazine. I was officially getting married, now, and I was excited to have a reason to buy that. Sadly, the line in the shop was a mile long and by this time, our plane was already boarding. I waited in line a few minutes but finally had to give up, making a mental note to ask Aidan to bring me a copy when he flies home to Michigan.

We arrived at the gate to find swarms of people. Full flight again, but this time a straight flight to Toronto. No walking forty miles through another airport to change planes, thank God. We were seated at the back, row 45, and I was cursing these dumb heavy bags and coat again. Someday I swear I'll take a flight with only a purse in hand. 100 pounds of carry-on luggage is just plain stupidity. As our rows were called to board, a woman ahead of me noticed all of my bags and offered to carry one through the long corridor. I told her it was OK, they were heavy. She pressed on, asking to help me (a sweet Irish woman, of course -- they are just so giving and so helpful!) Finally I let her take one and she laughed and said, "My goodness! Are you carrying rocks in this bag??" I laughed and said indeed I was -- rocks from Giant's Causeway and turf of Co Tyrone!" She really laughed at that. There must also have been a dozen heavy magazines in there of interior decor and Ikea catalogs. She carried that bag until she reached her row 31, and I thanked her profusely. I found our seats and managed to hoist everything up and into the overhead. I was so thankful to be able to sit down because by then I felt like I was going to pass out. My heart ached, my muscles ached, my body was 1000 degrees, I was sweating like God-knows-what. I just needed to sit down and close my eyes and think of this beautiful journey and my sweet Aidan.

As Jillian got settled in with her headphones and iPod, both of our seat belts buckled and ready for takeoff, I looked out the window and whispered "goodbye" to that beautiful country. As the plane lifted off and into the air, I glanced down at the precious Claddagh ring on my left hand, and once again realized that this journey is only just beginning.

My new Irish Family