To my Galway family

I love these two...but they're a little camera-shy.

To my dear Galway family:

Oh, gosh...I'm crying already :P

Business first: I'm leaving for Shannon around 6 pm tonight with M and R, and will hang out there until my first flight (to Manchester) leaves at 7 am tomorrow. I'll have two hours there and then it's 8 more to JFK...so if all goes well, I'll be in New York by 1:40 pm on Sunday (6:40 pm Galway time).

Now that that's out of the way...look, you all know by now that I like to write. And usually, I can find words. But in this case, words really aren't enough. Still, let me try...

Because I found these as I was packing

It caught me off-guard, this little postcard.  I was holding a pair of pants, mid-fold...and had to stop and remember.

I bought this for you at Clonmacnoise, a monastery I saw on my trip to Dublin.  It's a Celtic cross; there are lots of them here, especially at the monasteries.  You'd appreciate the way the stories have all been carved in...so that anyone might see and understand.

After the trip, I tucked your postcard away, resolving to write the letter later so I could give it the proper attention.  I had the words already, though...words about Galway and being this far from Mum and my friends here and what I've learned to cook and med school classes and how I miss you, I miss you.

I was going to send it.  Would that still be appropriate?

Because I have a thing for candles

I had grand plans today - to clean the apartment, write some letters, have a conversation that I've been putting off, finish a book that I put aside many weeks ago.

It's almost 4 pm and I've done a whole lot of nothing.

Why?  Because as I untangled myself from the sheets this morning, fumbling for the snooze button on my phone, one of my feet hit the half-packed duffel beside the bed.

In which I remind myself about what matters

After the official end of term (which was the Friday before yesterday), the university gives students a week off before exams begin.  I call this the study week.

My upstairs neighbors call it the play-techno-music-that-shakes-the-walls-until-4-am week.

So on Thursday night, I braided my hair, slipped into bed, and thought, it would be nice if they would just go to bed so I could rest.  We all need to study.  Don't they know what really matters?

This is how I know

Someone asked me this evening, not unkindly, how I know you're proud of me...and the answer slipped out easily, as easily as my own name or a weary sigh at the close of the day.  With some answers, you don't have to think - you just know.

"Because she told me so.  All the time."

Will you forgive me for using the past tense?  I had to, although it feels wrong; people give me strange looks when I use the present tense.  Won't you just come back?  This is so complicated; I've never had to think about my verb tenses before.

My little corner of Galway

This afternoon is a remembering afternoon.

Everyone was always after you to exercise.  It hurts your knees, I know, but we just want you healthy, and some exercise is better than none at all, right?  You must know this.  But I'll bet you never knew that some of my favorite - yes, favorite - summer afternoons were spent walking with you in front of the house.

On the flip side, Commercial Street is plenty exciting.  I'm pretty sure that whoever came up with the phrase "thrill of the hunt" did it after a day of shopping on Commercial Street.  After years of exploring, I still don't know every little alleyway and shop - that's A.  (I never told you this - or her, for that matter - but I've always thought about saving her name for one of my children, if I have daughters.)

Safe

I'm up too late (or early, perhaps) mulling over something N wrote to me a few nights ago.  It's giving me a headache, her whisper that your ashes will be kept in the grotto on the balcony.  You'll live beneath those tangled flowers you loved.

Do you remember that as a girl, I used to ask about the etches in your nails - where they came from?  And that I would play with the veins in your hands because it fascinated me to see them pop out like that?  You said that's how you knew I'd love the piano - because I "played" on those veins.  Confession time: I still do that now, but with my own hands.  Sometimes.  I once thought it was just restlessness - an absentminded habit - but now I remember why.

Mailing address

A quick addendum, friends: I just found out that Teresa (my housemate) and I can get mail delivered straight to our door here.  I love mail - please send me mail!  Here's the address:

127 Gort na Coiribe

Headford Road
Galway, Ireland

Getting to Galway (Part I)

Me: Are you sure you can't come with me?
Sanjana: *fixing her hair and pretending she's not going to miss me*
There's really nothing like having a little sister.

Classy, as usual.

Greetings…from somewhere over the north Atlantic!  The first leg of this trip has just begun – it’s about seven hours from JFK to London, a two-hour layover, and then ninety minutes from there to Shannon.  (From Shannon, I believe that the bus ride to Galway is about two hours.)