Here's To The Irish

Sometime in late 2006, just before the holidays, my paternal grandmother was diagnosed with breast cancer. Many of you have met "Nana" over the years and know that under no circumstances did she wish to be called "grandma". She was much too young for that. It wasn't just the name though, it was a state of mind because at 79 she really was still a very young woman. So although the cancer was beyond its initial stages, it wasn't necessarily a death sentence. Faced with the option to "let it go" or "fight", Nana decided to fight. Several months later, in March of 2007, we celebrated her 80th birthday with a bash that had been in the works long before the diagnosis. As is usually the case with the Irish portion of the family, a good time was had by all. One of the great things about the Irish--they party hardest in the face of adversity.

After her birthday, the cancer battle unfortunately went uphill. Upon my return from England in October, I had the pleasure of visiting the Bay Area and spending a few days with Nana before collecting my pregnant wife and returning home to Texas. Her condition deteriorated very rapidly after that and so it came as a blessing to the family when the Lord finally brought her home in November. Her postmortem wishes were clear: she wanted to be cremated and her ashes buried next to her sister in Ireland.

Tomorrow I depart on a 13 day trip to Ireland. The primary purpose of the trip is to bury my grandmother as she requested. The event will take place on Monday, August 11th, nine months after her death. As I've mentioned though, the Irish celebrate best when the circumstances are not, so we are also taking the opportunity to tour the country Nana once called home. This will be the first time my entire immediate family has vacationed together for more than a weekend trip to the lake. I'm sure it will be an experience worth writing about.

This is also the first time in nearly ten years that I will not be traveling with a computer. So that means no TRS updates until after my return later next month. And, just to kick things up an extra notch, as I wrote the last sentence, my wife dropped a pint glass on her foot, lacerating her toe. When the date for this trip was chosen late last year, it was a tough decision for us. Do we take the baby with us? Do we leave her with Grandma? It was finally decided I would go alone and Jen's mom would fly out to help her with Kaitlyn. At the time it was a decision I was not terribly pleased with. Now that my wife is about to get four stitches in her toe and can barely walk, I'm rather relieved she's not going (although it certainly adds to the stress of me leaving her home).

In fact, now that I ponder our relationship, this seems to be a recurring theme:

2003: Two days before my departure to Switzerland for the summer, Jen breaks her foot at my parent's house.

2006: One week prior to our wedding and subsequent honeymoon in Europe, I put a gash in my forehead requiring three stitches.

2007: The day before our departure to England for the summer, Jen announces she's pregnant.

2008: The day before my departure to Ireland for two weeks, Jen cuts open her toe, requiring three stitches.

Every time I leave for an International trip, something dramatic happens. I'm 25% Irish, so I'll handle this the way the Irish do; I'll be in the kitchen with a bottle of Jameson.

Here's a map of the places we're going to visit before arriving in Lurgan for the burial/memorial. I'll have a cell phone and I'll try to text message a few bits directly to the blog over the next two weeks. If you'd like, sign up for the RSS feed here.

Slainte.



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