"I dream things that never were...."

After years of planning and saving, our big adventure was upon us on June 5, 1968 - we were going to Ireland with our mom, to visit the country of her birth, and meet our great-grandmother!

I'd like to tell you that the trip went well, but I suffered from incredible motion sickness as a child (well into adulthood, to be honest), and I had a major freak-out at the sight of the plane that was taking us from Toronto to London (England). The small airport in my northern home town could only accept propeller planes, and I was terrified of this jet with no visible means of lifting us into the air. I suspect that I cried and threw up for at least the first couple of hours of the overnight flight, much to the distress of those around me.

The Aer Lingus flight from London to Dublin was much easier for me as the plane had propellers. It was also packed with Irish Americans heading home for visits with family, just as we were. The sky was blue, the sun shone, it was a perfect morning, and we had just cleared the British coast when the pilot made an announcement.

Bobby Kennedy had been assassinated.

The happy conversations turned instantly to sobs, grownups around me, women and men alike, were crying uncontrollably.

Even the 7-year-old me was aware of who Bobby Kennedy was. He was, after all, on the news nearly every night of the week, and usually on the cover of The Toronto Star, too! Yes, I did read the paper. No, my parents never stopped me. They had a subscription and it was delivered to the magazine shop in town late every afternoon, where dad would pick it up on his way home. I've mentioned in previous blog posts how I credit this habit with my success at trivia.

I've talked about this in a previous post:

http://labellatestarossa.blogspot.com/2013/11/how-do-you-make-sense-of-senseless.html

and to this day, I remain inspired by the Kennedys and their vision for the world.

"Some men see things as they are and say why. I dream things that never were and say why not?"
     Senator Ted Kennedy's eulogy for his brother

Eulogy

My aunt, Elizabeth Walsh, died on Tuesday, March 6, 2018, leaving behind a large grieving family headed by her daughter, Cindy, and husband Roger Scott. Our family will not be the same without her.

Here is the eulogy I presented at her celebration of life service:

My aunt was one of those people with a rare gift - she could walk into any room and turn it into an instant party just by her presence. Her personality was as big as her smile and bright as her hair and it makes us feel her loss that much more keenly.

After my sister and I moved to Toronto, my aunt became a second mother to us. The best time was our birthday weekend, as our birthdays are less than a week apart. Aunt Liz treated us to lunch, and the restaurants got increasingly fancier as we got older. For my 18th birthday, she took me to the old Silver Rail on Yonge Street for my first grown-up drink.

Having worked as a cocktail waitress for years, she was unfailingly polite and kind to servers and taught us to be the same way. To this day, Melanie and I can go out and have wait staff tell us how we made their day by being their best customers.

Many years later, I was able to repay the favour; I somehow got tickets to see Swan Lake by the National Ballet on Aunt Liz's birthday and there was no question I would be taking her. We went out for Mexican and margaritas and then across the street to see the timeless story of the swan queen. We both loved it! Several years later, she was my date to a Placido Domingo concert - and we both adored that!

It's a rare and precious thing to have a second chance at love - but Aunt Liz and Uncle Roger are proof of the saying that love is lovelier the second time around. Their devotion to each other was tested in recent years due to illness, but it held fast. Uncle Roger, I said this to you on the weekend, but I'll repeat it now with a room full of witnesses - you're stuck with us.

My Wild Irish Clan has lost the brightest star in the constellation, but she will always be a part of us.

I then read the poem "Song of the Star" by the American writer Suzy Kassem.