|Postcard from my grand aunt Kathleen Coyle
I have long dreamed of a visit to Ireland, the land of my mother’s family. As I wrote in my March 17th posting, my dream is about to come true. When I dream of Ireland I imagine expanses of green and blue with ancient Celtic crosses and wooly sheep. I picture curving country roads and people who look like me with red hair and ivory skin scattered with freckles. Perhaps it is naive to expect Ireland to look in the least the way it looked when my great grandmother, Mary Josephine Mullane, sailed away from her home in 1885. Of course there are vibrating cities connected by highways and people with brief cases and cell phones.
I am hoping there are still patches of green and blue, small towns and mossy church yards where, even if I can’t find the worn stone with our family name, I can find the spirit of my ancestors. I want to walk where they walked or at least take a deep breath of the air they breathed and look at the hills, the ruins and the ocean they saw.
Only a few days more and I will see how my dreams and reality compare.