Alright boys and girls, moms and dads. It's time to nestle up next to your honey, or faithful pet, and hear the tale of how I finally got the marriage thing right. My last few chapters have been heart tuggers but I needed to get them out of me. If I didn't I would probably have taken a job as a groundskeeper at a closed, seasonal mountain lodge somewhere in the mountains to write a book. That didn't work out well for Jack Nicholson or Scatman Cruthers in "The Shining" so we are now switching gears.
We all know the old adage "The third time's a charm." Well for me it is, "Number four didn't show me the door!" My wife Kris was, is and always will be a saint. I am not in trouble or the dog house and I haven't forgotten a birthday or anniversary. She truly is. I would have kicked me to the curb a long time ago.
On February 21, 2002 my Father and I left for a 7 day trip to Ireland. After the horror of 9/11, international travel was at an all time low from the USA abroad. We booked our tickets and my dad said, "F&*k the terrorists! We are Americans and we're not afraid of them!" I did take a moment to remind my dad that Ireland was probably the last country the terrorists would "hit" right before Jamaica. My dad was a proud Vet and wore his patriotism and a USA emblem on his coat sleeve every day of the trip.
We arrived to cold and rain, mixed with colder, harder rain and accented with some occasional stinging, frozen sleet. Ah! Eire, I see you at last. It rained everyday we were there but we had some sunny spots occasionally. We weren't in for the touristy side of the country of my ancestors so we rented a car and just started to drive. We left Dublin with only one planned point on the trip and that was to visit the town of Connolly in County Clare. One of the funniest things on our trip was my first dinner in Dublin. My dad suggested Indian food! Indian food? In Ireland? He didn't eat the it in America and we flew 3000 miles to try the stuff! I hated it then and I still do now. I will fill in the rest of the trip later, but let's skip ahead a bit.
The Ring of Kerry winds and climbs along route N-70 on the southwest coast of the Emerald Isle. I loved everything about the awe inspiring island. The coast was heaven like. Every 50 feet was a spectacular panorama of peat bogs, inlets, hills, fields, stone fences and breathtaking flowers. The vast Atlantic lay beyond. God truly was inspired when he painted Ireland. Every scene is a giant green postcard and I would recommend a visit to anyone, except those pesky terrorists.
Driving takes exceptional skill for visitors and townsfolk alike. Sheep run free on the roads in herds, color coated so the owners can recognize their stock. Driving on the opposite side of the road there are no railings or shoulders and deep cutting cliffs and slopes. If you slide off the shoulder you will be greeted by eternity. There are also roadside chapels, painstakingly crafted in the middle of nowhere! Amazingly ornate statues and seats for prayer are placed there for those driving by to give praise for the beauty or thanks for making it around the sheep.
As we were moving through the last few days of our adventure we stopped in a tiny coastal town called Sneem, population 600. Here was Ireland complete. There was a church, a pub, a petrol station, a general store, a feed store, a couple quaint shops and a few more pubs and a few bed & breakfasts.
As we parked our tiny Renault in front of a pub of my father's choice, there wasn't a soul to be found. Nothing, nobody, zippo. It was like that ghost town in the Brady bunch episode with Jim Backus (Mr. Magoo and Thurston Howell 3rd) as the crazy miner. Thank God Mr. Brady was able to knock the jail cell key down with that rope made of belts. Ooh! I get the chills remembering the intrigue and ingenuity of Father Brady.
Anyway, there was no one around and we walked from colorful shop to colorful shop. All of them were trimmed in bright reds, brilliant greens and eye catching hues to draw the attention of passersby. All of them were locked. We returned to the car and sat perplexed at the silence. It was as if the whole town vanished. A few more moments went by and were planning to move on down the road. At the end of the main street we began to hear the gong of a church bell. Gong!......Gong!......Gong! The doors flung open and the whole town began to spill out into the street towards where we sat awestruck. Someone had died and I think all 600 of the townspeople showed up for the funeral. They scurried back to their shops and went about their business in the colorful town. They reopened for business as if the funeral closing was not an unusual occurrence. It was part of their daily responsibilities.
We asked for directions to the best B&B and drove back to check in. It was a quaint home with a spectacular view of a lake and the ocean beyond. I could have stayed there forever. We returned to the pub for dinner. I have mixed emotions by confessing I only had nonalcoholic beer in Ireland. The selections they had were quite good and I managed to stay free from the attention of the Guarda during our entire visit. The most memorable part of the night was when a homeless man entered the pub with a puppy. He placed the puppy on the floor and the little nipper ran right to my father and leaped into his arms. He licked and pawed at my dad and it remains one of my fondest memories of the trip. I have included the picture of that moment and another in the columns to the right of this blog. It is my favorite picture of my dad.
My dad enjoyed a few beers and I was intoxicated by the country as a whole. The people, sights and charm of the Emerald Isle live up to the hype. Still very much sober and full of nonalcoholic beer, I told my dad I was going to go exploring. That expedition was a street about a quarter mile long. At the end of the way was a typical English phone booth, bright red and stark sitting on the edge of Sneem. I walked toward the booth and saw it butted against a tiny bridge with a bubbling creek snaking and crawling underneath and through the idyllic village.
As I followed the course of the river it flowed gracefully into a lake, then into the ocean beyond. Even though it was 10:00 pm sunlight was still cracking through the skies above. The vision is burned in my mind and magnificent. I thought of my roommate, partner in crime and best friend sleeping soundly back in the states. She was everything I had ever pictured and my perfect foil. Where I was weak, she was strong. When I was miffed, she was relaxed. She was a great mother and I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. We had been living together longer than my 3 other marriages combined and I was inspired by the beauty and grace the moment filled me with.
I can be impulsive. It comes with my nature. It was 4 am back at home and I knew Squeaky wouldn't be waking for another hour, but I was consumed. I was driven! I felt my heart leap and sing that THIS was the moment, even though I was an ocean away from her. I dialed the States direct and she answered the phone slightly startled and a wee bit irritated by the late morning call. She accepted the charges and I rambled endlessly about the beauty of Sneem and the events of the day. After a few minutes of rambling like a kid who downed a bowl of sugar my focus returned to my mission.
I started to sob as I confessed my unwavering love for her and the kids and I said the magic words, "Will you marry me?" She had begun sobbing too, the good sobbing of course. Her first response was, "Are you serious?" I gushed as tears spilled around me shouting, "YES! I have never been more sure of anything!" She shot back excitedly, "You traveled to Ireland, you're standing in a phone booth at 4am and you're asking me to marry you?" I caught my breath, slowed my tone and replied, "Yes, I am." She cried a sweet sigh and said with complete assurance, "I would be proud to be your wife." God I love Ireland!
sweet
ReplyDelete