Nostalgia for Ireland
Although it was just a short time ago, I feel as though it’s been nearly a lifetime since I’ve been home — my true home. The home where my heart resides and my mind constantly wanders to — Ireland.
I remember so clearly my first hours there. I doubt that I can ever forget. I remember sitting in the dining room of my hotel that morning. It was 6 o’ clock. I was exhausted and fearful that I was just moments away from waking up from that sweet, sweet dream to find myself back in my bed in California. Nothing frightened me more in that moment. But at the same time, I felt something stronger than fear. I was overcome with even more sheer delight and excitement, as well as a thirst for adventure and enlightenment. I sat there, sipping on coffee and nibbling on toast that the staff were so kind to give me as I waited for my room. And as I sat and sipped and nibbled, I gazed out the window at the streets of Dublin and thought to myself, I’m here. I’m actually here. I finally made it. It was all incredibly surreal.
As I found myself not waking up in my bed in California, and as the coffee in my cup slowly began to diminish, and as I watched the people of Dublin pass by my window and heard the conversations in Irish accents in the next room over, I began to feel tears in my eyes. I don’t think I had ever been so happy in all of my nearly 21 years. That moment became an iconic moment in the story of my life. So many precious experiences and memories took place from that day on throughout my entire exploration in that beautiful country.
I found myself a little more. I know myself a little better now. I miss that place so much, and that is an understatement. From Dublin to Galway, to Doolin and Dingle, from Dingle to Killarney, on to Cork and Limerick, I found something in each of these places. When I think about those cities and towns, the people I met in the pubs, the good craic we had, the friends I made, the mind stimulating conversations, the music I heard, the streets and trails my feet have crossed, the boats I’ve sailed, the opportunities I saw, the lessons learned from fellow travelers, and the fears that I put to bed, I cannot help but smile. I re-live it every day in my head.
But then I am heartbroken. But then I am homesick. Why on Earth did I ever come back to California?…
I miss Ireland so deeply that it feels like the wind is constantly knocked out of me. It almost physically hurts that I am not there right now. You know the feeling I’m talking about. We’ve all experienced it in one way or another. The feeling you get when a relationship ends with someone you love and care deeply for. The feeling you get when you lose a friend or family member to inevitable death. The feeling you get when something so dear to you gets taken away. Some of these are more extreme than others, but each of them have something in common — grief.
Forgive me for sounding so melancholy. Thinking about my experiences makes me so happy, which is why I long so much for it. I long for the Irish way of life, the beautiful land and the change of pace. But I know I will be back in Ireland very soon. I can see it.
I see myself in a little apartment during the Christmas holidays. Either Galway or Limerick. Galway for the city and surroundings, but Limerick for my Irish sister, Sarah. Oh, how I miss her. I see a group of us, my friends and me. We’re all celebrating the holiday with music, Guinness (of course), food, lights and decorations, a fireplace that is lit, and enjoying each others’ company. But most importantly, we’re family. Besides Sarah, I don’t even know who they are or what they look like or what their names are, but I know I will be there with them, in blankets and jackets and fuzzy socks to keep us warm from the cold winter rain.
I can see it.
But until then, I will remember the song that spoke volumes to me in Ireland. Until the future becomes the present, I have the joyful memories from my past experiences to keep me company, and the lyrics from that song: “Don’t you dare let our best memories bring you sorrow.”
Slán go fóill, Éire.
Written in July, 2016