Well, you learn something new every day. Yesterday I attended a Bernie Sanders rally in Oakland, CA which was the very last place I thought I’d learn a new tidbit of Irish history but I was mistaken. One of the speakers had just returned from the North of Ireland. He butchered the pronunciation of Sinn […]
Yesterday I wrote a long historical piece about Anne Devlin, a tragic hero that is often overlooked in Irish history. I posted it then even though the anniversary of her death is today, due to the Scottish vote news that would overshadow her. She has been dwarfed and dismissed by many historically and I just couldn’t do that since I have wanted to tell her story for so very long.
If you’re interested in that kind of thing, she can be found here. And if you’re anywhere near Glasnevin Cemetery, take an extra flower and sit with her awhile for me, would you?
Reposted from my Irish blog because the Countess is one of my favorite heroes and such an important woman in history….
Today as I celebrate my birthday and my friends raise a glass to me, I will be raising one for Gerry Conlon and his family. I was heartbroken to hear the news today that this inspiring man has passed away in Belfast and it marks the only time I have shed a tear over the passing of someone I did not know personally. It was a goal of mine to meet him, and now I will not. Rest in Peace Mr. Conlon. I hope you meet your father again soon.
For more information on who he was and what his life meant to me, go here:
I realize that I rant on about Ireland a bit – and that most people who read this blog, don’t know or don’t care about those issues like I do. Since this one was originally going to focus just on writing and not necessarily the politics of a far away country, I have decided to make another.
If you are interested in my writing about Ireland, Irish history, politics, etc. you can find those posts here.
This blog will return to its regularly scheduled programming and its focus on writing in general – for friends, fun, profit and experience.
As you were….
When I got home from Ireland, I told stories. I collected and edited pictures. I started a project and worked on stuff. In my dreams, I dreamt I was still there every single night, and in my waking hours – being there at all felt like a dream.
Today the fruits of my labors came to an end. I held my precious memories in my hand and wept like a little girl – suddenly and violently. I was surprised by my own reactions to something I had built – because I had been building it all this time and thinking it was helping me process. The finished result took my breath away and I was happy, sad, wistful, overjoyed and heartbroken all at once. With that onslaught came the realization that I have not processed a damn thing – and my heart is on my sleeve in a land far, far away.
Is é mo chroí in Éirinn