I went to Dublin and found Boston.
I know it sounds strange and it was the oddest thing.
Every street corner, every sign post had a familiar ring.
It could also have been the echoes of American accents
everywhere we went. Were we really in Dublin?
Having grown up Irish Catholic outside of Boston plays a part in this.
Add to that my college years spent in Boston and a father who loved
his Irish heritage and it all began to feel very familiar....30 years later.
I finally had a chance to say it my way.
One 'L', not two, if you please.
Although I do admit to wondering as I stood
amidst all these O'Neill's why it was that our ancestors
arrived in the USA with one 'L' instead of two.
It was a short trip, three days in January
and the weather was cloudy, yet mystifying.
Nightfall was a beautiful sight with
a shimmer of a shamrock by the evening light.
even in winter they had a way of surprising you.
as for the Guinness....well how could I not?
I am my father's daughter after all. :)
and a good Irish stew has always been a favourite.
We walked and walked and ticked off the list.
Trinity College Dublin and more.
We ended with the resting place of Jonathan Swift of
Gulliver's Travels fame. He was Dean of St. Patrick's Cathedral
and is buried there. Ah, the Irish...bless them,
my Dad was right :)
I managed a memento or two, as you do.
If you follow me at Collage of Life you will know
that I arrived in a flu like fog and fell in love with Irish Tweed.
You can find out more about that here...