“I was homesick when I wrote this, forgive me if it goes astray,” at least I think that’s what he said. Even if it is not, it is true that I am feeling out of place. It is an unusual kind of homesickness, since I am missing a place I never actually lived, but have only visited. The Germans have a word for it, who am I kidding the Germans have a word for everything, even it is super compound. They call it “fernweh” which translates, roughly, as “farsickness”, a bittersweet longing for a distant place. That sums it up nicely, as I sit here wishing I were on the wild Western coast of Ireland. It is an easy place to miss during this season of the green where there are reminders around every corner. It has always held a special place in my heart, ever since that first visit. It’s the place my family comes from, where I have spent not nearly enough time, but always feels like home. Gazing from the cliffs out on that white capped, deep blue sea, the salty wind in my face, just feels natural. It feels like home…and I miss it. Since, I cannot go there today, I will have to bring a bit to me and with that in mind, won’t you join me now as we stand and make the Gaelic Flip.
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