One of the highlights of last month’s visit to Ireland was a Sunday afternoon gathering of family in Dublin. If you’ve been around here for any length of time, you know the story of my making contact with my father’s family for the first time in 1989 when I was 22 years old. If you don’t know the story, (and it’s a good one), I’m happy to share it – let me know and I’ll post it as a comment.
It was an event, like the recent McMenamin reunion, that changed my life.
As we chatted and reminisced on that recent April Sunday afternoon, a cousin shared the fruits of his extensive research into both Donegal, the county where we originated, and our family genealogy. It was fascinating and I gleaned a lot of information about places and people to which I am connected on what feels like a cellular level.
Don’t ever underestimate the power of knowing from whom and where you come – it’s priceless.
There are many moments from that day that I will forever hold within my heart, especially the sense of belonging to this literal clan of people who directly descended from Niall of the nine hostages, one of Ireland’s former high kings.
So, I guess you can call me Queen!
Being connected to a country’s royalty is certainly unexpected, but in all honesty it doesn’t even approach the privilege of being related to the family to whom I’ve come to know in the last 35+ years. The hospitality, consideration and generosity which has been bestowed upon me through these decades is humbling.
This trip came with a number of events, including the sad and unexpected death of one of my cousins, that caused some serious pivoting in terms of planned itineraries. The grace with which this was met, and the necessitated change in accommodations which resulted in my family unhesitatingly opening up their homes to host us, was deeply touching and appreciated.
I’m beginning to believe that I must be the Queen of good fortune which tracks because, after this vacation in Ireland, I’m convinced my youngest son is most certainly a prince.
Traveling with my sons, often singularly, is something I’ve done since my oldest was an infant. Sometimes it feels as if my youngest has unintentionally received the short shrift when it comes to these trips, due to work commitments, the pandemic and life’s circumstances. Our last trip together was almost five years ago and I was feeling guilty about Q not receiving the same opportunities as his two older brothers had when they were younger.
After this visit to Ireland, though, my mom guilt is most certainly assuaged because this kid was treated like absolute royalty.
From Q’s arrival to when we departed to return home, this youngest son of mine was indulged – and I loved being in a position to be able to do so. He asked for very little from me which made buying the secondhand leather jacket that fit him like a second skin, a joy. Paying for his pints and meals and accommodations and transportation was not a burden, but a treat I was happy to provide.
An advantage to traveling with a young adult, as opposed to a young teen, was his confident independence. His social skills prompted an immediate connection to a cousin he had never met previously, as well as a platonic travel companion who joined us in Dublin (from Sweden!) and spent 3 nights kicking around town with Q and bunking with us in our Sandymount condo. He made friends with some Aussies, played a little footie on the streets of Galway and, in general, impressed me with his ability to make connections with new people.
It was really wonderful to witness and will undoubtedly remain one of my favorite things about this particular trip. While I give all props to Q for the way he conducted himself, I’m also going to give myself some credit for putting together an itinerary that provided a positive balance between family time, sightseeing activities with me and plenty of opportunity to be out and about with people his own age.
Lineage established and crowns in place, we’ll both look forward to the next visit to the land from which our ancestors come.
DelSo 
well done! A life well lived.