15 things I learned in Ireland - part 5 - the Finale!
Thank you for keeping up with the reading this past month as I’ve shared 15 things I learned in Ireland. Why 15 you ask? Well, it seemed fitting since I was away for 15 days. The lessons did not reveal themselves to me on a daily basis butI certainly found new things to marvel at on all the days of my trip. Today I give you the final four. To read the previous parts in the series, click here, here, here, and here.
12. If nothing else, the trip was worth it for the underwear
I was the child of a British mother who was thrilled when Marks & Spencer came to Canada in the 1970s. I didn’t love going there - it all seemed pretty old-ladyish to my wanna-be hip self. But I couldn’t deny the quality and comfort of the undergarments and so up until the closure of all 40+ Canadian stores in 2010, I would shop there. In the dark period since, I have cobbled together a collection of serviceable underpants from The Bay and (don’t judge me) Joe Fresh. So when I knew I would be in Dublin for two goofing-off days, I knew M&S (as it’s now known) would be on the agenda.
My underwear drawer and the adjacent sock drawer are now brimming with new additions, and my garbage can equally full. I’m good for another few years. I also browsed the shelves of M&S Food, wishing my suitcase weren’t already so full, although the mini orange Jaffa cakes made it home with me.
13. Some bonds form quickly and subsist without regular nourishment
Being the second stepmother to adult children is an undefined role. Jack’s second wife had a hand in forming Jack’s two sons from his first marriage in Poland - or at least was an adult figure in the years before they reached adulthood. As third wife, though, closer in age to either of them than I was to Jack, I wasn’t certain how or if the strands of our lives might continue to weave together after his death.
One of these sons, Nick, lives in County Galway in Ireland, and so I was delighted when he agreed I should come visit him and his family. Our previous in-person contacts were few: Jack and I visited them when they lived in London, attended their Portugal wedding, and then went once to see them Ireland. Then they came to our Toronto wedding reception and finally Nick came alone five weeks before Jack died and again to be with us at his medically assisted death.
Through our shared experiences, especially being present for the final goodbye, Nick and I have what Jack himself would have described as ‘good language’ between us. The five + years since Jack’s death has softened any impulse we might once have had to idealize or demonize him. Instead, we’ve both arrived at a place where we could laugh and lament, celebrate and mourn, all with objectivity. We discovered this as we spent two casual days together, going for a walk in a park and sitting around in his backyard, like old friends. I hope we maintain the connection.
14. Age, determination, and quick-wittedness is my birthright
Some of you know my mother is a sharp and spry 96 year old. No-one in her family - that we know of - has ever lived this long. If her genes are to prevail, and I eat enough raw garlic (per mom’s example) then I’m good for another few decades.
What I haven’t shared is that longevity comes from the Chandler side of my family too. My paternal grandmother died at 99, and her mother, lived well into her 90s. My father’s sister, Anne, is now 92.
Anne’s profile reads like someone you might love to hate: a retired family doctor who speaks English, German, Italian, and French; found her true love in her 50s; paints watercolour Christmas cards for charity and pet portraits for friends (I have two); plays cello; sings in community operettas; climbed Kilimanjaro in her 60s; was primary caregiver to her mother and then to her husband; maintains close relationships with countless friends, former patients, caregivers, and family in several countries; mastered video calls during the pandemic; drove alone to France from London to visit her daughter - at age 90; and is a beloved mother, stepmother, grandmother, step grandmother, and so on. Of all my relatives, she’s the one I’ve maintained the closest bond with, visiting her as often as I could in trips to the UK over the years. Indeed, it was Anne who made the trip to Canada for the celebration Jack and I threw ourselves to mark the end of his cancer treatment and our elopement.
So in November 2023, I was devastated, like so many others, when Anne was struck down by a hemorrhagic stroke. News from her kids was spotty, suggesting they were engaged in full-on caring and worrying. I could only fear the worst. When I decided to travel to Ireland, I knew I needed to make a side trip to London to see for myself. When I learned they were throwing a 92 1/2 birthday party for Anne, I extended my trip to attend.
Anne, however, has defied all odds. Although bedridden for most of the last six months, she entered the party room upright, supported by a Rollator (walker) and her physiotherapist, Moe. When I mentioned to her privately that for Moe, I, too, would walk. She chuckled, agreeing he is a “rather attractive young man.” She beamed as her guests applauded her grit. Her stamina held for two hours while those who were with her through the worst enjoyed this revived version of Anne. I couldn’t be prouder to be her niece and I hope I’ll channel her resolve, if I ever need it.
15. I can plan and enjoy a vacation alone again after 30 years
In my 20s, I vacationed alone a number of times - trips to places where I knew no-one and where I’d just wander around, being opportunistic about what I saw or did. My last solo trip was the year I turned 30. I travelled to New Zealand for four weeks. While on that trip I visited with friends and family but mostly I roamed around the country with no plans, open to anything that came up.
In the intervening 30 years, I’ve had vacation structure imposed on me. First, when I took a job at an international organization in the late 90s, I started traveling for work and tagging on vacations either alone or with colleagues. Shortly after that, a friend moved first in Australia and then Europe, making his home cities the obvious choices for holiday destinations. Then in the Jack years, we built European vacations around trips to Poland to visit family.
This year’s trip to Ireland and England is the first time I’ve set my own itinerary in 27 years and the longest I’ve been away in 20 years. The planning process initially overwhelmed me - without anyone to negotiate with, how would I ever decide what to do? Turns out, of course — and I’ve known this — I’m happy doing just about anything, or nothing at all: photographing wild flowers, chatting to seagulls, finding ramen in Dublin, taking too many selfies. And while no-one can share the memories, I’ve got a captive audience right here on my blog! So thank you, readers, for letting me share my travel tales. Until next trip.
(photos: above: Me near Holyhead in Wales; below, things I love to do even when in Ireland - eat ramen, watch birds, look at wild flowers; and my remarkable 92 year old aunt walking into her party with Moe, the physio)
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