Dreaming of Ireland...

It's no secret that I am a proud Irish girl. If my glow in the dark skin & freckles didn't give it away, my penchant for cussing and dark beer sure should.
But what you might not know, is that my love of all things Irish began long before I understood what being Irish meant, and even before I knew that I was Irish.
From a very, very young age, I was mesmerized and fascinated with Ireland. I dreamt of it. Only at the time, I didn't know that. I remember seeing travel shows on television as a child, and when they would show images of The Emerald Isle, I recognized the places from my dreams. I could see a photograph of a place I had never been to or heard of, and know instinctively that it was in Ireland. I could hear an old Irish tune for the first time, and finish the lyrics or hum the music. I would read countless books on Irish myths, legends and folklore. I remember once, years ago, I was talking to a customer who happened to be Irish born, and she was describing her childhood home to me. I must have gotten a strange look on my face, because she suddenly asked me if I was ok. It was only then that I realized my eyes had begun to fill with tears. I had no logical explanation, and when I told her that for some reason when I see or hear about Ireland, I get this intense feeling of homesickness, she smiled and said she understood completely. She said "Once you've been there, it sticks with you." Which made sense... except I've never been there.
Visiting Ireland is not only at the top of my bucket list, it holds spots 1-5. My biggest concern is that once I go there, I won't ever want to leave.
I don't fully understand my connection to Ireland. There are many, many beautiful places on this planet that I'd like to see, but none that give me the longing in the pit of my stomach, and yearning in my heart that Ireland does.
I can't explain why the sounds of harps, bagpipes, and flutes bring chills to my skin, and tears to my eyes. I can't explain why I often dream of rocky cliffs overlooking crystal blue waters, surrounded by lush carpets of green. Why images of castle ruins, appearing out of the fog, haunt my thoughts. I have no logical reasons for these things, but it doesn't make them any less real.
I only hope someday to be able to explore this magical place, and maybe make sense of this lifetime of wondering and wishing. I hope that before my time here is complete, I can replace my dream images with real life memories.
Here's to you, Ireland. To your myths, legends, magic, and mystery.
May we find each other someday...