Thoughts, experiences and adventures from a resident of DelSo aka Delaware Avenue South in Albany, N.Y.
When I travel to Dublin I do my best to get in a visit with my father at his place of residence since 1984, Deansgrange Cemetery. Last year’s trip to Ireland left me no opportunity to get there, so I made certain I would manage it this year. Last Friday was the day. I made … Continue reading Tea with my Dad
…there's always a chance that you'll find the way." — Seamus Heaney Before I went to Ireland for the first time in 1990, the wife of the chef I had worked with prior to my move to Albany strongly recommended that I read the novel, Trinity, by Leon Uris. It was a must. I remember nothing about … Continue reading “If you have the words,…
My Uncle Eamon’s kitchen, Broomall, PA, Fall 1989 The first time I met my Aunt Rosita was at a family wedding. This event marked the second time in my life that I shared space with a relative other than my mother and brother. I had been collected from the airport by Uncle Eamon and Uncle … Continue reading Saying goodbye to a generation
Earlier this month one of my father’s last remaining siblings died at the fine age of 92. My aunt was one of 5 daughters, along with 9 sons, born to Conan and Mary McMenamin over a span of 23 years. Yes, my grandmother really was pregnant for the better part of a quarter century. Moms … Continue reading The last of 14
I’ve mentioned before that I often find myself weepy when I’m in Ireland. If you know me at all, you’re aware that’s atypical of me. I’m not known to be a crier. On the occasions that I do get teary, it’s likely to be about children and animals, not songs or physical gestures. Last week, though, … Continue reading Writer’s tears
So far, the wettest thing (other than the Irish Sea - more on that in a minute), has been my cheeks. There’s something about being in Ireland, regardless of the number of times I’ve visited, that makes me weepy. When I visited Ireland the very first time, all flights from the states stopped at Shannon … Continue reading An eternal present
The sounds of Lucca woke me after what had been a poor night’s sleep. I don’t blame my fitful and interrupted sleep on Lucca; it’s simply how my nights are at this point in my life. The occasions when I manage to remain asleep for more than four or five consecutive hours are pretty rare. … Continue reading Late night thoughts in Lucca about Sinéad O’Connor
DelSo 