Fantasy Ireland

 “Look over there, right next to the newsstand, I uttered, and a tear welled up in my eye, “I knew he would be here.”
 Billie smiled as she struggled to wheel her suitcase.  “Yeah, yeah, is that who I think it is?”
I waved at the tall balding young man, “Yup,” I replied excitedly “I don’t believe this is happening”
 As we approached, the balding man broke out a wide smile and began to wave to us. It was evident that he was equally thrilled. He remembered that his Nana once told him that he had relatives in America and that she hoped to meet them one day. His thoughts also included the sheer evil of Nana’s husband, which forbade her from realizing this dream.  It was this memory that affected him so deeply that he began to weep.
 “Michael! Michael!” I shouted as I got closer and closer until we stood toe-to-toe and grasped each other and hugged. Billie grinned from ear-to-ear and realized her new camera was in the bag she was wheeling. In a flash, she freed it from the bag, made quick adjustments, and snapped a picture of the two cousins.
 After she saw the result she announced to all, “This one’s a keeper.”
 Michael laughed, extended his arms to Billie, and in his Irish brogue sobbed: “Git over here, Billie, and give yer cousin a big hug.”
 Our walk to his car in the airport parking lot was spiced with news of each of our lives. I told Michael about all his other relatives in America, and he recounted the many times his grandmother spoke to my Aunt Paula, who had wanted to visit the Emerald Isle herself. I asked if he ever had the opportunity to speak to my aunt.  “”Sure did,” he piped up. “She was a grand woman, Jim.”  I nodded and Billie added “When I first met Aunt Paula, I didn’t know how to act,” and then explained she never visited a convent and approached her visit with trepidation. “But she made me feel so comfortable and welcome. I was shocked to see a Garfield doll in the restroom. Michael, the convent was beautiful, very tasteful . . . and she was so lovable.  Although I don’t always see eye to eye with the Catholic church teachings, Aunt Paula welcomed me all the same.”
 Michael turned to me after shutting the trunk of his car. “Yer know, Jim, I feel a wee bit hungry now. Would yers care for a bite at one of our pubs?”
All of us hopped into Michael’s car and headed to Bobby Byrnes pub in Limerick city, where we ate steak and potatoes and continued our long-awaited conversation.
Yes, day one in Ireland is indeed a day I will always remember. For now, it is still a fantasy.