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…
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