A scudding grey cloud hovered around me on the journey from Achill Island to Galway. For, the first time since I arrived in Ireland twenty two years ago and much to my astonishment I missed the city of Glasgow.  Thus, I was downhearted despite the promise of spending Christmas in Galway.

It has to be said that in recent years I became moderately untouched by my visits to Glasgow, becoming somewhat detached and if I am honest, sorrow often came upon me as the city was no longer familiar to me.  I often felt alone, a stranger walking in alien landscape.  There are  few recognizable faces, my family and friends having either moved on and as is the way in this life, some friends are no longer alive.   

As I travelled to Galway, there was a hollow in my heart and maybe I was trying to fill it with the re-creation of memories. My memories give comfort and assist me in making sense of my life. There were few passengers on the coach and as I moved with the movement of the wheels over the road, it afforded me the opportunity to reflect back.  Oh how, I desired to go to the local church, a church that was my home for several years.   I recalled the many enjoyable Christmas Eve Night Service, me with my croaking voice singing carols, a joy to me but perhaps not to those by me. Memories of a sanctuary dimmed, a lush green tree, with ribbons of fairy lights and dangling sparkling baubles.

Ah the warmth of a memory rekindled. Away back in my bygone days, maybe Christmas 1995, I recalled walking home from the Christmas Eve service. The night was surprisingly mild and the air especially restful.  My journey home was interrupted by Ian who bounded over to me and surprised me with a beautiful and unexpected gift. A gift which unlocked the door into a relationship.  Two years, shy of one month, our relationship had turned sour.  Nowadays, it seems another lifetime and I often wonder where he is now.

I was travelling to Galway to reconnect with my good friend Dave, someone who I have known for at least twenty years and I shall be in the familiar surrounds of Galway.  This will be a new recollection that I can place into my memory satchel.

As Dave and I watched TV, ate lunch and chatted together, I began to become aware that I wasn’t really missing Glasgow. Somewhere in the deep moments of  honest conversations, it became evident that I was yearning for familiarity – the old Christmas of the past.  Despite liking Achill Island I had nonetheless uprooted myself to a place where I knew no one, thus everything is unfamiliar.  Perhaps the human condition requires the comfort of some familiarity especially in older age.  Therefore, the curse of the restless spirit which allows no space for consolidating roots and with the passing of time, there is no anchor of familiarity.  

It isn’t just the absence of friends, it’s those precious moments of connection.  For example, it’s the friendly remarks to the bus driver who knows one’s name due to the fact that you have journeyed on his/her bus for at least twelve years. It is there in is the recognizable faces of the library staff who know you because one is a frequent library user and have facilitated workshops and joined various groups held in the library. It is just that sense of familiarity, of feet walking on well tread pavements, passing acquainted faces.

Christmas in Galway turned out to be wonderful and I enjoyed every moment.  Three wonderful days then:-

As soon as I arrived home, discovering that there was no electricity nearly brought me to tears.  I stumbled through the pitch blackness to locate candles, walking into the corner of the fridge freezer. The thump to the side of my head stunned me into silence.  The mobile was steely cold which caused my body to shiver and the dank air stuck on my hair and eyebrows.    Poor me! I lamented.  All I thought about was leaving this dark nightmare, packing up all my possessions and going back, but then I really didn’t want to go back. Deep within my heart I wanted to explore Achill further. I wanted to stay.   

With a sense of defeat I stumbled onto the sofa and cocooned myself with the duvet.   Oh why, I wailed, could I not come home and things be fine?  And the pity party carried on with – why can’t anything go right for me? And so, the night ahead lay long and endless. The wind in Achill is determined in its roaring, it is loud and incessant.  In my dejected mood, I became angered and desired to shout, ‘Be Quiet’ but of course that would be a fruitless endeavour.  In reality it wasn’t the storm blowing outside, it was the squall in my head that I truly desired to calm. 

As I lay in the shadows of the night, faces of significant people of my past appeared before my eyes.  My childhood friend, Megsey with her strawberry blonde feather cut and the whiff of gingham perfume caused a tear to prick my cheek.  Then in the quietness of the ‘what if’ night I wondered what would have been if I had kept in touch with her.  Ah, the ‘what if‘ night, a concept which I am rather familiar with.

Then my memories are ruthlessly broken by the bleakness of bemoaning – ‘why did I come to Achill in winter?   Perhaps, if truth be told I was running away, sprinting towards the attempt to discover something which doesn’t exist.  Perhaps, it’s a natural stage of approaching one’s elder years.  I came because strange as it may seem, that determined wind had my name in it. I desired time away to consider my future without the safety net of familiarity.

As the wood stove offered its gift of warmth and the flickering candle gave calm, I eased into the night.  My eyes gazed upwards to the wine gum blue sky, a breath-taking sight, I was never privy to in Ballydehob. It tugs my heart and I am reminded that I am truly blessed to be in Achill.  Time will pass and soon the island will become familiar.

As each minute ticked I began to experience that having no electricity blocked out the incessant chattering of the outside world. No television, no film networks, no Facebook. I was no longer party to the mind thumping words breathed by others.  I had freedom to think without interruption and found that without all the sound bytes which continually bombard us, my sense of authentic self kicked in.

I spent five days with no electricity and I can’t believe that I am reporting that it was actually a positive experience, one which gained so much knowledge from. My electricity is back on and one thing I am certain of is that I am grateful for being able to switch on a light.

Until next time.