Dear Friends,
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| The Cliffs of Moher |
It is time for new melodies.
We cannot knit comfortably in our armchairs forever. The world calls! Comfort is a favorite song, but there are
unheard melodies we cannot hear over the thrum of the familiar. What is tried and true once was new,
and although the world seems a cacophony of unknown sounds, we cannot hear other
melodies until we leave our armchairs behind.
Craving a new beat, Rachel and I packed our bags to meet
four friends in the land of green and Guinness—Ireland. Also known as Éire, this island boasts
lush, sheepy countryside, friendly people, and lively music. There’s a fair amount of “refreshment”, too. Friends, I won’t lie to you. My fellow travelers and I, we “Buccaneers”
(19th-century nickname for American women unleashed upon another country), had a few
Guinnesses, a few whiskies, a few ciders, and a fair few pints of other sundry
liquids. We had to get in the Celtic
spirit! Not that we needed liquid
courage to get to know the locals. The
Irish want to know everything about you—where you’re from, where you’re off to
next, “No, don’t drink the Guinness until it’s settled!!”, and what brought you
to their fair country.
My visit to Ireland was not just for adventure’s sake. It was also a “Sister Trip” for me and
Rachel. Each year, Rachel and I put away
our knitting for quality sister time.
Every other year is a grand adventure, like Prince Edward Island in 2015
and Ireland this year. Years in between
are smaller journeys, like a few days on Lake Huron or a long weekend with friends. I got this idea from my friend and mentor
Brenda who passed away from cancer last August.
She and her sisters did a trip each year. Even as they got older, got married, had
kids, and sadly, suffered cancer, they didn’t let life stop them from quality
sister time. I liked that and decided to
honor Brenda’s memory and genius by starting sister trips of my own. Besides, Rachel is my best
friend. She reminds me of the important
things, like packing pajamas, taking my vitamins, and not bitching when things
don’t go my way. She takes her sisterly
duties seriously.
The funny thing about “sisters” is that they are not always
the people you expect. Yes, your parents
may give you a sister. That is non consensual,
but we live with it. Then there are the
sisters you choose. They are your
girlfriends, the women you invite into your life because they make it brighter. They help you listen to the music and will yell
over your familiar, skipping records when you are too deaf to listen to newer
beats.
Luckily for me, my fellow Buccaneers are the sisters I chose—A,
J, M, and L. They each have their
gifts.
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| A in Bray |
A is unfailingly positive and eager to try new places. In Dublin, she was on a pilgrimage to the
city’s many watering holes, squeezing into the busiest pubs, chatting up the
locals, and jamming to their music. She
did rather well at this, and she hustled me into a few more pubs than I would
have visited alone.
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| High Tea in Howth |
J yearns for unique places. Rather than visit Dublin’s many tourist
stops, she opted for high tea in a fishing village and a tour of a quiet, country
manor house. She also makes lovely
biscuits, a most useful quality on an adventure.
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| M Guided us into Only the Safe Alleys |
M was the human compass.
She knew how to get her stumbling, tipsy comrades around Dublin with
humor and grace. When her internal
compass failed, she had the technology to get us where our humble wi-fi-only
phones could not. We would have been
lost without her.
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| L Takes Flight |
And L, well, she was our artist, our photographer who took
such stunning pictures that we kept searching her for a fancy camera. She has an eye for beauty.
Thanks to my fellow Buccaneers—Rachel, A, J, M, and L—I
experienced Ireland as I never could have alone.
They watched over me, pushed me out of my comfort zone, kept me on the
right track, fed me, and revealed the beauty all around. Had I stayed at home, I would not have known
what I was missing. I would have missed
the rhythms of Ireland and the harmony of six women conquering it
together. Now that I have returned, I
cannot hear the same song I heard before. I am different. My ear is attuned to other melodies, and life
sounds better than before.
When we escape the armchair, we risk feeling lonely or lost,
not getting along, or forgetting who we are in the tumult of becoming something
new. In Ireland, (when we weren’t with
M) we got lost, and we sometimes felt lonely in a foreign land. We didn’t get along perfectly, but we worked
it out. In being away from work and
home, we forgot about the professions and street addresses that used to define
us. It changed us as adventure does. And even though we have returned to our six
separate armchairs, we are still humming that new tune, sisters far apart yet still in perfect harmony.
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| The Buccaneers, Dublin |
Cheers,
The Super Spinster
