I spent the past few days at home with my parents in Massachusetts. It was a startling visit for several reasons. One, I realized that we are an inescapable combination of our two parents. Two, well, that's startling enough. Though I've always known this, it had never been more apparent than it was during this visit. I even unconsciously tuck my thumb under my index finger exactly like my mother. The fears I have. The courage. All theirs! My four brothers and I are five little mixtures of Jim and Elaine. Okay. Thank you, Captain Obvious! But seriously, sometimes it just hits you in this funny, happy way. I hear myself thanking one of them after so many of the things I say.

They told me about their recent trip to Ireland. I sat with them on the couch in our living room and looked at pictures on the t.v. We drank wine and I listened to stories. They met angels, ancestors, and the spirit of the earth. They brought back music and crystal, plaques and jewelry. The biggest treasure I find is in their eyes. The way they tell the stories together. Filling in details for each other. My mother uses her brogue to excess which makes me laugh. Then my father does it. Then it switches. I join them with my own and somehow in the deep of the night, the air rich with the burning peat my father brought back, our sweet house seemed to relocate to the hills of the Country where my ancestors sang.