I know I am in Ireland, and this blog is supposed to follow my adventures around the Emerald Isle and not around my roller coaster of emotions, but there are somethings that I would rather share. Last night, two of my closest friends from home each told me that they love to read my blog, that it speaks to them. Upon reading those texts, as simple as they were, I felt surrounded. Even though I was, at the time, sitting alone in my room, I felt surrounded by their love. I felt connected to them because I am able to share who I am and where I am through this little blog of mine, and they are willing to take the time to read it. I love that feeling. I love feeling that my writing means something (as scary as it is to press "Publish" every time). So, tonight I will share with any reading eyes that I am torn.
I have reached this strange point in my journey, where I realize that I am running out of time here in Ireland, and I don't know how to feel about it. On the one hand, I am so excited to see my family; to hug my nieces and snuggle my mom and see my friends' new home and grab coffee (good coffee) with my friends. I am excited to see sun and walk outside without putting on three layers. I am excited to eat burritos. There are so many things that I miss about home that I am excited to return to, but I'm also sad. I'm sad that I will leave behind these new friends I have made - my friends from Missouri and Virginia and Boston. I'm sad to be leaving this land that is so rooted in tradition, and filled with beauty. I'm sad to be leaving a country where I can go to a pub to grab a casual drink and listen to the incredible live music. I'm sad to be leaving the Irish accent - especially an Irish accent singing an American country song ;) There are a lot of things that I will miss about Ireland once I am at home, enjoying the things that I am missing now, and that has me in a strange state of mind. I suppose all I can do is enjoy the time I have left, and take advantage of every day!
That is something that I have tried to do since my dad died - enjoy life. Before his funeral, we tried to collect as many pictures as we could of my dad, and it saddens me to realize that there aren't many of him in the last few years of his life. I don't have any pictures with my dad at my high school graduation or my last dance recital. In realizing this, as sad as it is, I realized just how important it is to take advantage of the time you do have, to embrace those around you.
If I'm being honest, I'm in this reflective mood tonight because I just watched "the video." It is a collection of pictures from his childhood to mine, and I love it. My friend made it for me, and even though for him - an incredibly talented editor - it was probably nothing, to me, it means the world. Those twenty minutes or so that we sat together, ordering and adjusting the pictures I'd scanned into the computer meant more than I could even describe to you. It is one of the few memories from those two weeks after my dad died that I remember vividly. So, when I watch "the video" it is bittersweet. I remember that time, sitting in my friend's office, recollecting on the photographs, and laughing at the fact that every time Stevie Nicks bolted out, "Cause I built my life around you," the picture was of my dad and a fish. We couldn't stop laughing. In a lot of ways it was true, but he fixed it so the focus of the lyrics were a family picture. I mean, we should have just recorded over and made it "I built my life around fish," but I don't think it would have had the same effect. I digress. The point is, I am filled with happiness that my dad was alive; he was a brother, a husband, a fisherman, and he was my dad. I love to watch as the (often mischievous) gleam in his eyes shines through each phase of his life. I love to see his Optic Zone necklace, and his love for those around him. I love to see his love for me. It is often, though, the picture at my birthday party, where he is looking with such love and adoration into my little, blue, four year old eyes, that I tear up. He really loved me. And I miss that. I miss knowing, no matter how mad I got at him or how loud I yelled at him, that he loved. I miss his bear hugs and his foot waves. I miss snuggling next to him and watching Swamp People. (I found a show called Lizard Lick Towing that I wish so badly I could tell him about.) I miss him, and that makes me sad. It's a complicated sadness, though, because much like my mixed feelings about leaving Ireland, it is a sadness derived from happiness. I am happy that he was alive. I am grateful that I got the time I did have with him. But because I knew that love, I yearn for it. So, I guess what I'm saying is that even when I post sad things on this blog, I recognize that it all originates from a place of happiness. I'm never trying to be too over the top, I'm just trying to be honest, and the truth is: I love my dad.
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