Patrick's Month

I didn't post anything on March 17th--St. Patrick's Day--since it's also our wedding anniversary (#17 this year. And they said it would never last!) We chose the date since we felt it would be a hard date to forget, considering we live close to Boston and a bazillion other Micks. But, you know, it's March, and the entire month belongs to Patrick.

Three sets of greatgrandparents and one grandma came from the Old Sod. Nana(Peg Delaney) Holland came from Williamstown, a little village in east Galway. She left when she was 16 and never looked back. She and her sisters worked in the Manchester, NH mills for a while, then Catsy (Catherine) went to work in a local church rectory, cooking for the priests. Nana and sisters Della and Helen opened a little bakery in Brighton, MA. and worked there until marriage claimed all three of them. Della and her husband Walter Lang continued to operate the bakery until they retired. I used to love to listen to the three of them talk in their soft brogue. My father used to call them his "red, white, and blue girls"--Nana had white hair, Della had red, and Catsy had the lovely blue. By this time, Helen was married and living in Brighton and we didn't see her as often in Watertown. A fifth sister, Annie, had come to the States but had returned to Ireland to care for a bachelor brother. She eventually married and raised a family there.

About ten years ago my husband gave me a trip to Ireland for a birthday gift. I was very excited that I was actually going to see the country my family left so long ago.
I remembered listening to one of my Dad's cousins talk about visiting Williamstown in the past and wondered if one of his daughters would know anything about anyone still living there. She gave me names and addresses and I sent off letters to absolute strangers, not knowing if they were dead or alive. I made arrangements for them to contact me once I was in Ireland. Messages were waiting for me when we arrived.

We met my cousins Peter and Joe Maloney (Annie's boys) and their families. Peter still lived on the farm where Nana was born and brought up and Joe was a retired Guard (policeman) in Co. Clare. Jack and I were told we would be going out to the farm (Brierfort) and spending the night there with Peter and his wife Mae. We all had such a marvelous time--it was as if we had known each other all our lives. It was one of those once-in-a-lifetime experiences. Ireland is simply gorgeous--it's as green as they say and quite mountainous. The people we met were friendly to a fault and we have nothing but wonderful memories. Peter has since passed away, but I learned last week that Joe and his wife Mary are coming for a visit at the end of April. I can't wait to show them the same hospitality they gave to us.

The photos are of my cousin Joe Maloney, his wife Mary, and three of their five kids. The next is a photo of the farm Nana grew up on. The cattle belong to cousin Peter. The lane (and most of the roads in Ireland) is very narrow. Jack and I went out for a walk after supper and literally had to climb up into the hedgerows when a wee little subcompact came by so that we wouldn't be hit! The third photo is of a roadsign in English and Gaelic. and the last is of the cemetary where my forebears are buried. Cemetary's don't provide "perpetual care" in Ireland, so most of the old gravesites were all grown over with tall grass and the stones leaned to one side.