Husband & Wife

Early in our marriage - not long after having our girls, Aaron and I had the chance to sneak out with a large group of couples.  The majority of us were couples in the midst of the three ring circus of parenthood.  Conversation was dominated by teething solutions and breastfeeding hilarity.  Lack of sleep was a constant complaint, quickly followed by a sweet story about snuggling said crib jail breaker and then much ado was made over the sweet pacifier breath of our kids and the boys all rolled their eyes as the girls sighed in tandem while discussing the smell of Johnson & Johnson.  After the bills had been paid, the ladies all hugged each other before the men shepherded their wives off to their own demesne of domesticity. 
Fifteen years into our marriage it's a rare treat to spend time with the friends we have so much history with. We pass at church, phone call and Facebook each other if someone is sick, and plan well meaning lunches that never end up getting scheduled.  As much as I love my close girlfriends, and treasure time with them giggling - it's even more rare to have uninterrupted time away with Aaron.  Sure we sneak away like teenagers to movie date nights - but I'm embarrassed to say our talk usually centers around the girls' schedules, the advocacy I'm working on, his work travel schedule, and grocery lists.
Once a year we call in favors, and spend a night away within a few hours of the house.  And guess what?  The sky doesn't fall, the house doesn't burn, and our kids are still happily breathing on our return.  While happy for the respite and time to reconnect, however brief, we still felt a deep desire for more.
On our fifth anniversary we planned and schemed for a year to be away for a whole week.  We called our close friends the Carters and their family made our week hiking in Maine's Acadia nothing short of sublime.  We had a beautiful home to stay in and we traipsed around like teenagers with no plans except to visit at least two lighthouses a day, hike, and eat fresh seafood until we burst. 
The success of that trip galvanized our planning for the next one - our tenth anniversary was going to be a blow out.  God had other plans in mind and instead of purchasing airline tickets for Europe we were putting our home up for sale and planning to build our new one.  While we don't regret the practical decisions we made at the time for our little family, we promised ourselves we wouldn't forget our dream.
While not quite an official "anniversary trip" on technicality of the date, I'm ridiculously happy to say we just returned from...Ireland. 
(I still can't believe we did it, even when I see it in boldface type!) 

My built in GPS husband drove on the opposite side of the road as though born to it.  We went around the coast of the entire country (Ireland & Northern Ireland) and decided that if the trip had been any more perfect we would have thought we were in a movie. 

Looks like a movie set doesn't it? 

Ladies View, Killarney National Park

 

Our entire trip was full of sunshine (an unheard of number of days without rain), warm weather, great Irish food, music and of course the craic everyone talks about. 

 

Church at Kylemore Abbey, Connemara, Co. Galway

We flew into Dublin then headed south for our first night stay in a tiny town called Ballymacoda.  The farmhouse we stayed in was older than America.  The owners were extremely friendly and helpful, and we had a beautiful view of the beach across the street where we walked hand in hand that evening.   From there we headed out for the Ring of Cork, which we felt rivaled the much promoted Ring of Kerry.  A triathlon stopped us from spending a day in Cobh but Kinsale turned out to be beautiful.  We only scheduled the first four nights of our stay which ended up being perfect as we rounded the Ring of Kerry, took in Skellig Michael, and discovered veg mash in Kilkenny as a local attempted to explain hurling to us.  From there we found another back road up towards Killarney - I believe we stopped every quarter mile to take photos in the sunset light.
The next day we conquered the Cliffs of Moher - and we still can't believe there are no real set barriers on the Cliffs.  On our walk back to the car an older gentleman was busking, playing the penny whistle as though it had been attached to him his whole life.  The high sound actually carried all the way around the Cliffs - from the steep left side to O'Brien's Tower on the right.







Cliffs of Moher, edge of the Burren, Co. Clare

Musseden Temple, Castlerock, Co. Londenderry

From there we dropped into Doolin and decided to stay for two days, most of the first day spent on the Aran Island of Inis Mor.  We stopped in for craic that night at the local pub, only to be regaled by live music and an older gent who sang stories with a voice weathered by experience.  The history and architecture of Kylemore Abbey captured our attention and imagination for the day, and once again we had another beautiful old home to spend the night in.  The next morning reality set in that we still had so much to see, but unfortunately nowhere near enough time to see it all.  From Connemara we caught the main highway into Northern Ireland to see some sights and were surprised by the massive change in accent.  After days of the soft, melodic Irish lilt the Northern Ireland accent, to our ears, more closely resembled the Scottish brogue.  Here we caught the Giant's Causeway at early morning as the tide was leaving - reveling in the fact that we almost had the whole place to ourselves.  Then we braved the Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge and once again marveled at the weather and the clarity of the ocean water. I had my longed for Leap Year movie moment when a herd of dairy cattle crossed our path for a few moments.  Aaron even used our tiny diesel car to herd one stray into the next pen as the local farmer took off his cap to wave his thanks.

I cannot begin to even tell you, in words, the memories we made...

The sights - architecture fully intact dated hundreds of years ago weathering storms and holding life secrets not found in history books; turning a corner to find yet another ruined tower, fort, or castle covered in vines but somehow uncannily giving off a presence that made you feel as though the owners could return at any moment.  The unhurried gait of the locals as they stop to chat in doorways - cell phones an unneeded nuisance for most in rural areas.  Moms headed to weekday morning mass in Sunday best, heads covered. Shrines and holy wells along the back roads, trees decked in ribbons and shiny items as a reminder to the saint.  Cathedrals containing such intricate details you couldn't take it all in if you spent the whole day gazing in wonder.  Family cemeteries centuries of years old, yet still someone brings fresh flowers to honor the long passed loved one.

The smells - barley and oats destined for some one's glass in the form of some type of stiff drink, the brine of the ocean, the delicious fresh food that just came of the fisherman's boats, the damp moist smell of age; in the evening the warmth would slowly fade into a crisp fall air followed by the smell of burning peat in wood stoves and fireplaces; flowers everywhere, laundry on the line.

The sounds - the ocean tide and the birds that fed with the tide schedule, bleating of sheep, cows noisily letting their owners know it was time to be milked; accents - Irish, Northern Irish, Scottish but also the Gaelic of a sean nos singer, and the surprising melting pot of other languages-Poland, Slovenia, Iceland, French, German.  On the radio the 90's music listened to in high school, on the streets more traditional music.  Laughter and stories spilling out of the town pubs rife with craic. Bodhran, piano accordions, penny whistles, flute, mandolins, guitars and fiddles usually played with an abandon only matched by skill.  Constant humming of the locals.  Bark of dogs as they herd sheep or alert the owners of a stranger, followed by a soft command from the owner.  Laughter.

I will try to get some additional photos posted as we cull through our memory cards.  What a gift and joy to travel-but to experience a new culture, new sights with your best friend...well, honestly, it doesn't get much better.

Aaron and I love being Daddy and Mommy. 

But we take even greater joy in being Husband and Wife,

knowing that our strong marriage makes us a better team as we parent our beautiful girls. 

To all those at home who made this possible, our "Merry Band of Crazies" a list of folks that encompasses Rylee's medical team...thank you for encouraging us to do this.  Thank you for loving on and downright spoiling our girls in our absence.  Thank you for being so joyously excited for us.  If every family like our own had the support group that we do - imagine what could be accomplished.

To Aaron - thank you for giving me the gift of dreaming as we scrimped and saved together for years to make this trip a reality.  Thank you for helping me teach the girls to live life without fear, embracing difference, and relishing the excitement and challenges that come with change. 

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed

by the things you did not do than by the things you did do. 

So throw off the bowlines. 

Sail away from the safe harbour

and catch the trade winds in your sails."

- Mark Twain