A DECADE OF REALITIES

 

A series of essays….

A GOOD REASON TO CELEBRATE 

       Courtesy of Red Earth

….as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E Hughes

Comprised of ten years, or one-hundred and twenty months, which equals five-hundred and twenty-one point seventy-eight weeks — I’ll stop right there! Leap years happen every four years and are important so that our calendar year matches the solar year — the amount of time it takes for Earth to make a trip around the Sun. Leave it to our Earth — always in a hurry!

A decade can be a lengthy, short, or moderate amount of time depending upon our personal perspective. As a baby-boomer, adding ten healthy years to my life expectancy can be a toss-up between good and bad: yeah, I’m happy to have lived another ten years or, no, unfortunately, I am ten years closer to…well, you know, the end of my personal rodeo. Whereas, an eight-year old might be thinking more about independence or going off to college in ten years time. 

A ten year time span can be gauged positive or negative depending upon various factors such as health, economic means, quality of life, support from family and friends, or our own futuristic prospects, goals, and dreams. I read somewhere that if and when we stop dreaming, this is when a productive life begins to wane, decrease in its momentousness. Holding on to our hopes and aspirations will always give us something to look forward to, as well as a raison d’être, a reason for being, no matter what our age might be!

Even through the most difficult times of the COVID-19 pandemic, my dream of travel was never completely undermined; just delayed. I believe my writing and Blog essays kept me going most of the time and still do, today. 

It all began a decade ago, due to our Irish friend and traditional Irish music artist whom we reunited with back in 2013, Adrian O’Connor. Adrian lives in the colorful village of Doolin, located in County Clare, with his amazing wife, Bev. Doolin is considered a trad music hotspot, as well as a gateway to the ancient sites on the Aran Islands, which are just offshore. The towering Cliffs of Moher lie southwest of town. Farther north and east, the Burren is a stark area of limestone beds and extreme beauty, not to be missed.

CRAGGY ISLAND BED & BREAKFAST

Dan and I met Bev and Adrian on a previous trip to the Wild Atlantic Way along the west coast of Ireland when they hosted our stay at Craggy Island B&B in Doolin. Adrian sat with us back then in his parlor and gave a history lesson in Irish traditional music (folk music) and how he has played a part in it over the years. That visit solidified our love for the west coast of Ireland. Adrian and Bev made us want to return. And, we did! We celebrated our 40th wedding anniversary there in September of 2013. 

Unfortunately, due to health reasons, they had to give up running their two-story, white stucco home as a Bed & Breakfast so that Adrian could recoup his health and become stronger. Unfortunately, Bev was out that afternoon we stopped by Craggy Island. Even though it had been seven years between visits, when Adrian came to the front door I saw the ‘twinkle of recognition’ in his dark blue eyes. We sat outside in the gracious Irish sunshine and talked about everything. Eventually, I asked him about a promise he once made to me seven years before.

ADRIAN O’CONNOR PLAYING
THE SMALL SET OF PIPES

He silently sauntered back into the house as if remembering the kettle was on, and I knew what he was after as tears already began to flow from my eyes. Adrian returned within moments carrying a small set of pipes that appeared as old and craggy as our dear friend, himself. He promised to play the pipes for us seven years ago, but we’d all been too busy for this private concert to take place. Now, through his illness and recovery, as sure as the salty Atlantic winds continue to lash relentlessly across this amazing coastline, Adrian’s music washed over us like a Mother’s sweet breath as we stood swaying back and forth…promise fulfilled.

I could barely make out his face through my tears. As sure as the Irish sun was shining down upon us, I knew we were in the midst of a power so mysterious and strong, it was bigger than all of us, yet was all of us combined. Love isn't complicated. You just have to be aware of it with every breath you take. My 'tears of happiness' equaled nothing short of pure peace and much needed solace. I can’t thank you enough, my friend.......!

Many things crossed my mind as we were pulling out of Adrian's gravel driveway and waving good-bye to our friend and soulmate. He was a survivor and possessed talent beyond compare. He made you believe in yourself. And, his unselfishness spread warmth and kindness to the four corners of County Clare and beyond. 

Adrian made me do it! His will to carry-on within the uncertain world we live in coupled with his desire to continue to cherish everything he loved, told me I needed to share this story with others. On Friday, October 18, 2013, I published my first Blog post that was simply entitled, Adrian. MOVING ON…..2013 was officially born! 

I will always see Ireland as a rich, artistic performance, alive with nuance, as in forty shades of green! With nearly five-hundred stories/essays behind me, basically, one essay per week of Blogging, I know many of them reference my beloved Ireland and how this magical place piqued my interest as I gathered friends there and so many memories; so many stories to write about.

Accordingly, Dan and I will continue traveling this September (our favorite time of the year) collecting more stories to be shared with all of you. We plan to celebrate our 50th anniversary in Wales with side trips in Devon and the Cotswolds. There will be so many rich stories to relay to you upon returning home, once again. I can hardly wait…!

Copyright © 2023 by Jacqueline E Hughes

All rights reserved

A TALE OF LIFE, GUINNESS, AND DIRTY LAUNDRY

A series of essays....

WHETHER IT'S A PINT OR A HALF PINT OF GUINNESS,
IT ALWAYS TASTES SO MUCH BETTER IN IRELAND!!!

....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

Stealing a few moments down in my daughter’s comfy basement, I am sitting on their bright red sectional, resting my bone-weary legs and listening to the soothing sounds of both washer and dryer creating their magic as our traveling clothes tumble and roll inside. Hopefully, our machines will be hooked-up and operable by the end of this week. The plumber is at our little yellow cottage working on that right now. In the meantime, this basement solitude suits me just fine!

MICHAEL, MARSHA, DAN, AND ME!

Dan and I returned from our trip to Scotland, Wales, and Ireland on Monday having shared amazing experiences with our traveling companions and good friends, Marsha and Michael. Unlocking the front door at eleven o’clock at night prompted us to forget about everything else but sleep after a long day of travel. It always amazes me that you can wake-up in, let’s say, Quin, Ireland, and be in your own bed later that same day (night)! 

Within life’s consistent identification of ‘first times’ and ‘last times,’ spanning the few, short years between birth and old age, we spend precious little time reconnecting with what makes us happy, comfortable, and rich with emotion and memories. I find that returning to a place where all of the elements involved make you feel hopeful and alive works wonders for my weary soul and peace of mind. Returning to Ireland is a prime example.

Some world travelers add-up on their ‘travel size’ abacus how many places they’ve visited; how many countries they’ve stepped foot upon. And, I see nothing wrong with this from an aesthetic point of view. I have chosen to be less concerned with compiling numbers and more excited about remembering meaningful experiences. Returning to a place I enjoyed so much the first time brings me back home to the land, places, memories, and (most importantly) the people I’ve come to call my friends! With each return visit, new friends are made, as well, and are neatly tucked into our hearts as we promise to keep in touch via the Internet in one way or another; assuring each other that our door would always be open for possible future visits.

I began my Blogging experience five years ago and entitled it ‘Moving On: 2013’ for many good reasons. I was moving on with my life’s journey and I wanted to share my adventures with others. I called myself ‘The Traveling Keyboard’ because my i-Pad was (is) my friend and faithful companion. Having solidified the fifth year of publishing my stories this past September, I am celebrating the occasion by reminiscing about the gentleman and his lady who were the subjects of my maiden essay. I am proud of the 235 posted stories I’ve composed since then!

Dan and I met Adrian and Bev in Doolin, County Clare, in September of 2006. And then, dropped by to speak with Adrian again in the autumn of 2013 before flying home from Shannon Airport.

CRAGGY ISLAND B&B

Well, my story goes something like this....

“Hello there. I’m Adrian. My wife, Bev, should be around shortly,” said the man with the engaging smile and an Irish lilt that bespoke of his rich Irish ancestry. “Come in. Come in and I’ll show you around the house before taking you up to your room to settle in.”

It was the final two nights of this particular Ireland visit as we followed along the Wild Atlantic Way in constant pursuit of lively pubs and Traditional Irish Music. We soon discovered that both were to be found in this colorful, little village that hugged the Atlantic Ocean. Doolin is embraced by the popular Cliffs of Moher to the south and the quaint Aran Islands further out to the west that dreamily drift near the horizon and stand guard to the entrance of Galway Bay.

THE CLIFFS OF MOHER RESIDE IN
THE BACKGROUND

After being warmly introduced to Bev and told that she would be making us a traditional Irish breakfast in the morning, Adrian preceded us up to the second floor to our comfortable room. Adrian and Bev were the proud owners of Craggy Island Bed & Breakfast, a peaceful place in a  scenic location with sea views and close to Ballyvaughan, Lisdoonvarna  (Matchmaker Festival), The Burren, and home to Traditional Irish Music. My research showed that Adrian held deep roots within the Trad Music scene and often played his guitar in local jam sessions at Gus O’Connors Pub in the village. Gus O’Connors is a Traditional tavern that originally opened in 1832 and offers delicious Irish food and nightly live music. Definitely a place after my own heart!

I’d read that Adrian O’Connor, our host, had released one CD, Often I Think About Doolin, and soon learned that he had arranged each song himself and was considered a local hero of sorts because of his talent and major contribution to the Doolin Trad Music lifestyle. Both he and Bev were certainly enthusiastic enough and very generous with their time and we were offered a private guitar session in their parlor at Craggy Island by Adrian himself. Explaining each song with his generous heart, we were overwhelmed by his personal sharing of history and music and candid talks about his family’s involvement concerning the Irish War Of Independence. 

Saying good-bye was very difficult for me. It was as though we’d been taken in by an Irish family who had allowed us into their inner circle with open arms and I found that relinquishing that new found joy, even after only two days, required much effort on my part.

THE CHEERFUL PARLOR AT
CRAGGY ISLAND B&B

“You’ll be back once again,” their kind voices chimed in agreement. Their words floated around us like the myriad of local musical instruments that collected and vibrated our very beings for the last two evenings: the bodhran (drum), fiddle, flutes, tin whistle, banjo, spoons, uilleann pipes, mandolin, guitar, and button accordion, to name a few. Our lower thighs were sore from the constant tapping on them in order to keep up with the exotic rhythms surrounding us for hours on end. “Yes, we will be back...soon,” was all we could reply. I waited to be seated in the car before the tears welled up in my eyes  obscuring my vision for miles.

BEV, ADRIAN, AND MYSELF IN
GUS O'CONNORS PUB

We tried to make reservations at Craggy Island seven years later. I was informed that it was no longer a Bed & Breakfast and that the owners had given up the business of welcoming strangers and long lost friends into their home due to family illness. 

Exactly how I found out eludes me at the moment. However, where there is a will...there is a way and I discovered that Adrian had been diagnosed with cancer not too long after we had left seven years earlier and had spent quite some time in treatment. With all of this going on in their lives, they decided to close up shop and concentrate on Adrian’s health.

Falling in love with Doolin, County Clare, and Adrian and Bev was the easiest thing we would ever do. Craggy Island drew us back again after seven, long years and we found ourselves navigating the hillsides of Doolin searching for the past we missed and desired so much. Memory led us back to the labyrinth of small, country lanes where the beautiful white, two-story house stood guard at the top of a hill.

ADRIAN PLAYING THE
PIPES EXPRESSLY FOR US...

Slowly driving by in order to soak in the feeling of coming home, we noticed a slight looking figure sitting on the wall at the side of the house and decided to pull in and inquire, just on the off chance, if either Adrian or Bev were at home. 

Suddenly, we found ourselves face to face with Adrian himself looking frail and quite surprised by our presence. Reintroducing ourselves while apologizing profusely for interrupting him, we could see in his eyes that he remembered our faces and gradually felt more comfortable with us. Being Adrian and the lovely man that once told us we’d be back to Doolin once again, he offered us a cuppa, which we kindly refused. Forever the gracious host! 

HAPPINESS!

As if looking directly into my soul, he told me to stand there and don’t move and that he’d be right back. Moments later Adrian returned with his small bagpipes in hand and gingerly reseated himself on the stone wall and asked, “I told you last time that I’d play the bagpipes for you, didn’t I?” “Yes, yes you did,” I, briskly, replied. 

Even the sharp, autumn wind could not wipe the smile off of our faces as Dan and I were treated to three Irish songs accompanied by bagpipes, pure enthusiasm, and the keen musical talent of Adrian O’Connor!

STANDING ALONG DOOLIN PIER,
THE SPUME BLOWING INTO OUR FACES

It is now early evening as I stand, reflectively, at Doolin Pier braving the sturdy wind and admiring the sun peeking through the steely clouds. The spume (foam) created by the agitation of the mighty Atlantic seawater slaps at my face reminding me of silly games played as a child. Holding my smartphone as tightly as possible, I attempt to capture the beauty and power that I am privileged to witness at this exact moment. I understand how fortunate I am to be alive!

We just left Gus O’Connors Pub not far up the narrow road to Doolin. Seeking the beauty of the mighty Cliffs of Moher and the distant formations of the protective Aran Islands out at sea, one last time, Doolin Pier is the place to be. My shots look good and I’m happy to be taking them back home with me.

LOCAL MUSICIANS HONORING JOHN JOE

DANCING A TRADITIONAL
SOLO IRISH DANCE WITH
JOHN JOE IN THE BACKGROUND

A few moments ago, the four of us helped to celebrate the birthday of John Joe, a local gentleman, at O’Connors Pub along with his friends, fellow Doolin residents, and musicians who honored him with music and song. A young lady danced a traditional solo Irish dance in his honor while another older gentleman told us humorous stories (craic) about John Joe’s  interesting personal experiences. We all raised our pints of Guinness and laughed and cheered for several hours.

RELATING HUMOROUS STORIES ABOUT
THEIR MUTUAL FRIEND, JOHN JOE

MY FACE SAYS IT ALL.....

CATCHING UP ON THE PAST SEVERAL YEARS

Oh, did I happen to mention that two very special birthday guests, and our friends, Adrian and Bev O’Connor, met us at the Pub early in the afternoon? Yes, seated at two of the small, round pub tables and tucked-in a corner opposite the long bar, we all cheered on John Joe, caught up with the last five years of our lives in the short amount of time we had, and raised a glass (or two!) to one another in celebration of simply being together once again. Life is very, very good!

WHO COULD RESIST
THIS BEAUTIFUL SMILE?

Now, back to my laundry. It’s nice to know that no matter what life throws your way, you will always have dirty laundry to ground you and keep it all real.

Slainte....! Good health to all!

Copyright © 2018 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved

Copyright © 2018 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All photo rights reserved

"GREEN FIELDS OF FRANCE"

A series of essays.....

.....as seen through my eyes!





By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

We are sitting in the cozy hearth room at the Craggy Isle B&B, once again, listening to that beautiful voice with its Irish lilt and deep sadness rolled-up into one extraordinary man by the name of Adrian O'Connor. Adrian is speaking about his beloved father as a tear glistens in the corner of his eye and trails its way over the wrinkles of time, the deep creases of sorrow.....

I blink and am projected back into my own world with its flat screen television and comfortable leather couch. Dan and I have been watching the Public Broadcasting documentary entitled, "1916 Irish Rebellion," narrated by Liam Neeson, a true son of Ballymena, County Antrim in Northern Ireland.

One hundred years ago the "Great War," World War I, the war to end all wars, was in full swing and Irish men of all ages were fighting for their Motherland, Great Britain. At the same time, many Irish men and women remained at home in Ireland to fight the War of Independence to free themselves of British rule. As Irish blood spilled upon the green fields of France, Irish blood was, in turn, covering the cobblestone streets of Dublin. It was Easter, 1916.   




           DECLARATION OF IRISH INDEPENDENCE 
              BEGINNING OF THE EASTER RISING



The shots rang out as the Irish militia, unorganized yet determined, occupied several strategic strongholds within Dublin City, with the Post Office Building on O'Connell Street centralizing the small army within the city proper. Within days, being strongly overrun by British soldiers and watching their own Dublin civilians become collateral damage for the cause, the Irish leaders surrender.

Patrick Pearse, James Connolly, Tom Clarke, Sean MacDermott, and Joseph Plunkett.....  To name but a few of the dedicated Irish Citizen Army leaders who will be remembered for their bravery and were executed by the British as an example of the independence they represented.

As I sat watching this stellar film honoring these brave souls, Adrian's voice continued to blend with my subconscious. During our visit to Ireland in 2006, his Bed & Breakfast in Doolin, County Clare, was our home base for several days. By day, we discovered The Burren, literally hung over the Cliffs of Moher, and navigated the heaving Atlantic Ocean in order to visit the Aran Islands. But, during one glorious afternoon, this was our time with Adrian, a renowned composer and singer who specializes in Traditional Irish music.




               Source: South Dublin Libraries' Digital Archive


Adrian spoke of his dear Father's role in 1916 when many young men were torn between Irish independence and fighting for Great Britain. He dedicated his music to the brave individuals on both fronts.

Adrian's rendition of the classic song, "No Man's Land," written in 1976 by Scottish folk singer-songwriter, Eric Bogle, brings tears to my eyes. Adrian's talking voice seamlessly unites with his singing voice in a most craggy, Irish kind of way and bridges any gaps between the past and the present.

When I miss that splendid voice, as I do right now, I play his CD, "Often I Think About Doolin." Cut number three, "The Green Fields of France," another name for Bogle's iconic song, reflecting on the grave of a young man who died in World War I, has probably become the finest anti war song ever written. And, Adrian certainly does it justice.

Below are the lyrics to "Green Fields Of France." I choose to commemorate the young Irish soldiers, recruited by Britain to fight for the British Empire only to return home to Ireland as lost, unloved and forgotten souls. In this sense, and having lived through the Vietnam conflict, I am reminded of our own men and women, neighbors and friends, who experienced a similar lackluster greeting upon returning home to the United States. As I have often said before, unfortunately, history does repeat itself. Will we ever learn....?


"Green Fields Of France"
By: Eric Bogle

Well, how do you do, Private William McBride,
Do you mind if I sit down here by your graveside?
And rest for awhile in the warm summer sun,
I've been walking all day, and I'm nearly done.
And I see by your gravestone you were only 19
When you joined the glorious fallen in 1916,
Well, I hope you died quick and I hope you died clean
Or, Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene?

Did they Beat the drum slowly, did the play the pipes lowly?
Did the rifles fir o'er you as they lowered you down?
Did the bugles sound The Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?

And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind
In some loyal heart is your memory enshrined?
And, though you died back in 1916,
To that loyal heart are you forever 19?
Or are you a stranger without even a name,
Forever enshrined behind some glass pane,
In an old photograph, torn and tattered and stained,
And fading to yellow in a brown leather frame?

The sun's shining down on these green fields of France;
The warm wind blows gently, and the red poppies dance.
The trenches have vanished long under the plow;
No gas and no barbed wire, no guns firing now.
But here in this graveyard that's still No Man's Land
The countless white crosses in mute witness stand
To man's blind indifference to his fellow man.
And a whole generation who were butchered and damned.

And I can't help but wonder, no Willie McBride,
Do all those who lie here know why they died?
Did you really believe them when they told you "The Cause?"
Did you really believe that this war would end wars?
Well the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shame
The killing, the dying, it was all done in vain,
For Willie McBride, it all happened again,
And again, and again, and again, and again.




Copyright © 2016 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved

IRELAND...A RICH, ARTISTIC PERFORMANCE - PART I

I vividly remember returning home from our last trip to Ireland with sunshine in my pockets and the enthusiasm of a child anticipating Christmas morning!  It was time to explain every step we had taken, each thought we had had and volunteer a tidbit about everyone we had met during our visit and place these amazing memories in a brand new Blog site I created just for this purpose.

Between now and St. Patrick's Day, March 17, my initial three stories of 'MOVING ON.....2013' will be spotlighted.  Most Bloggers realize that as time goes by, our archived stories need to be dusted-off a little bit and reintroduced as our 'Humble Beginnings.'

I see Ireland  as a rich, artistic performance, alive with nuance, as in, forty shades of green!  Please enjoy Part I, and my first Blog contribution, simply entitled, Adrian, dated October 18, 2013.

 



ADRIAN


First in a series.....




Craggy Island Bed and Breakfast








 




Adrian and Small Pipes

.....as seen through my eyes!





By: Jacqueline E. Hughes



We were one day away from heading to Shannon Airport and going back home to Orlando, yet a million thoughts away from having to board a plane.......

The gas tank was just shy of full after filling up the night before at the local Topaz petrol station in Oughterard, our home-away-from-home for the last week. As anyone knows who travels, especially to places they hold near and dear to their hearts, the final few days of the visit can do wild and crazy things to one's psyche......such as, extensive/obsessive picture taking.  As if by so doing, one could permanently retain, not only the image of where you are, but the true spirit and essence of each breath you take while you are there and be able to digitally bring it home to stay with you forever. Or, travel roads you didn't expect to on this particular trip except for the fact that "Memory Lane" keeps calling with the promise of prolonging your departure a bit longer.

Well, both of these phenomena stroked our heart strings as surely as a red headed lass deftly playing her harp.

So, heading south on the N59 towards Galway City, we made a plan to veer west into The Burren and make our way through Ballyvaughn and Lisdoonvarna with the destination of Doolin in mind. Doolin, in County Clare, sits just off the Atlantic coastline and seven years ago it was our jumping-off point for a ferry ride to the amazing Aran Islands. We spent a few hours....okay, quite a few hours, back when, in Gus O'Connors Pub in Doolin bending an elbow with a pint or so of Guinness and listening to Traditional Irish music with tears in our eyes but joy in our hearts and gratefully sharing the experience with good friends who joined us on this visit.

This time, however, we knew our time here was limited and opted for a wine and cold sandwich picnic replete with a huge 'rock table' overlooking the sea and the Aran Islands to the west and the Cliffs of Moher nestled comfortably at our backs, protecting and supporting us. Amazing!




Ferry Boats to Aran Islands



As we ate and drank, talked and devoured the scenery, we were thinking the entire time about Adrian O'Connor.....  You see, we fell in love with Adrian seven years ago while staying at Craggy Island. Adrian and his beautiful wife, Beth, ran this cozy, rustic farmhouse as a B&B that happened to be our final two night's stay back then. Nestled high on a hill and surrounded by fields and trees, livestock and long, winding roads just begging to be walked down, the wind off the Atlantic circled the little establishment as its curled and chilly fingers held it firmly within its grasp. Beth would offer you hot tea to stave off the chill and Adrian, a local renowned musician, would whisper stories about County Clare or enlighten you with the emotional and personal reasoning behind the music he had written, arranged and produced on his first CD entitled......Often I Think About Doolin. We brought this particular CD with us on this trip to play in the rental car as we traversed the narrow roads of Connemara and Mayo knowing that Adrian's musical lilt would keep us safe.....comfortable.

With the final sip of the delicious Rosé we'd discovered and purchased at the Country Choice Shop in Nenagh, County Tipperary, after landing at Shannon Airport our first day, our plan was to find Adrian before heading to Bunratty for the night. I knew that he and Beth had given up the B&B when trying to make reservations there a few months ago for our last night's stay this trip, and could not. The local proprietor of the Traditional Irish Music Shop in Doolin told us Adrian still lived at Craggy Island......I love that the Irish name their homes......but had been ill and decided to retire. He instructed us to take this bend around that rock and turn left beside those ruins and then follow the lane to the right of that church.....and, we might find him at home! So, we did.

Amazing how you truly never forget the places that comfort you. True, perhaps we'd taken a wrong turn at several of the afore mentioned landmarks, and keeping in mind that we really needed to use up most of our gas considering car rentals in Ireland provide you with an initial full tank and ask you to bring it back nearly empty, meandering the countryside was a totally positive adventure. But, like a trained homing pigeon, we made yet another right-hand turn and victory was ours as Craggy Island sat majestically on her hilltop shimmering in the afternoon sunlight.

As we pulled into the familiar driveway, we didn't know what to expect. Instantly a very thin individual emerged from a shed at the back of the house and as he walked into the light we could recognize Adrian's fine facial features and elongated, slim musician's hands......

Adrian was in a three and a half year cancer remission with the toll of the disease and its chemical cure taking bits and parcels physically out of this beautiful man. Despite this, his smile could beam pure light into the darkest day and his zest for life was not hidden by the scars of his illness. I asked him if he continued to write more music and he told us he was working on several new songs and hoped to compile a new CD soon. It was nothing short of pure joy to see that his passion and spirit continued to soar above the clouds. Even though the Irish Hurling rematch for the championship title between County Clare and County Cork was due to begin shortly (Adrian was born in Cork but has resided in Clare most of his life), he invited us in for tea........always the gracious host! Sadly, we declined, not wanting to interrupt the start of the game for him.

Suddenly Adrian stood and told us he'd be right back, as if remembering the kettle was on and it had been whistling a merry tune in his kitchen all this time. We knew he'd truly remembered us when he returned within moments carrying a small set of pipes that appeared as old and craggy as our dear friend. Adrian promised to play the pipes for us seven years ago but we'd all been too busy for this private concert to take place. Now, through his illness, after five grandchildren had been born to us and, as sure as the salty Atlantic winds continue to lash relentlessly across this amazing coastline......, Adrian's music washed over us like a Mother's sweet breath as we stood swaying back and forth......promise fulfilled.

Okay, so I could barely make out his face four songs later due to the tears freely flowing from my eyes.  However, I knew that at that precise moment in time, as sure as the Irish sun was shining down upon us, as precious as the memory of a grandchild's kiss, as blissful as an invigorating walk through a green-splashed forest on a Sunday morning.....we were in the midst of a power so great and so strong, it was bigger than all of us, yet it was all of us combined! Love isn't complicated. You just have to be aware of it with every breath you take. My 'tears of happiness' equaled nothing short of pure peace and solace in my life. Thank you my friend.......

I asked Adrian if I could have my picture taken with him and, to my delight, a huge smile spread across his stubbly face like an Irish rainbow spreads across a bright blue sky after the rain. We missed seeing the vivid arc of a rainbow this trip because the sun blazed across this magical land for most of our stay. So, capturing his smile was exceptionally sweet.

Picture taken. Destination Bunratty imminent. E-mail addresses exchanged with promises of new work forthcoming. All good. All perfect in an imperfect world. Is this even possible? That day it was.

Many things crossed my mind as we were pulling out of Adrian's gravel driveway and waving good-bye to our friend and soulmate. Would we be blessed by his talent and hear his melodic voice again on a new CD in the near future? I certainly wanted to believe we would because Adrian, at that point, epitomized the perfect combination of Faith, Hope and Love within mankind. He was a survivor and possessed talent beyond compare. He made you believe in yourself. And, his unselfishness spread warmth and kindness to the four corners of County Clare and beyond.

As we made our way down the narrow road, I pictured him turning on his television to watch the game and hoped that Clare came through with flying colors. The next thing I did was give a huge shout out: "Up Clare!!"


Post Script: For all of you Irish Hurling fans out there, this is an update. County Clare proudly holds this year's title of Champions!

Adrian an Me