I’ve thought about this before of course but it struck me, reading this post As old as the earth, that I am my grandparents. And beyond! I can’t even think beyond because I don’t know their stories. Their struggles, their loves.
For the past year or so I’ve been thinking about going to the area where my father grew up. Standing and looking at that shop, breathing, feeling the earth beneath me. Thinking that, as a little boy, he must have run up and down that hill behind it as play. If his mother let him?
Just to walk where generations before me did.
Then, reading Purnimodo’s post, I realised my grandparents are right here with me. They are me now.
I am Ireland.
And I suppose I am also the other side like it or not! I don’t tend to give them much thought, identify with the immigrants not those who passed through. I am Scotland and all over South America as well.
I am a farmer and a railway engineer, a shopkeeper, an artist, an embroiderer, and an exporter of goods rather not have left the country, rather not have been produced… I am a doctor and a mother.
The line weaves on it’s way back to the Irish farmer but I see the connection.
Who are you??