Though our time in Ireland was brief, I think of Guinness and colorful flags and warm air.
Stone buildings, kind-faced people and shimmery green landscapes.
Castles and pubs, expansive seas, old cemeteries.
I think of 2011: walking in a foreign country an ocean apart from Spencer, trying to find a way to call home . . . and somehow managing to exist without a cell phone.
For a week, anyway.
I think of waking up in Dublin to pull back the curtains in the tiny hotel room I shared with my sister, both of us bleary-eyed after an early wake-up call as we watched a buzzing city come to life.
And I think of taking it all in with my family, laughing at how American we must have looked with our cameras, comfortable shoes and wide eyes.
I don’t mind being a tourist . . . or even looking like a tourist. So long as I’m soaking it all up, taking it all in, what does it matter?
We only live once.
And we should definitely spend part of our days on the Irish Sea.