kateh wrote:

I got a Christmas card from the mammy last week. She's getting a little forgetful and she sent me *more* copies of some of my baby-Kate-at-the-beach-pictures, but tucked in amongst them were three pics of an old, old man.....my great-grandfather who died in '49.

[...]

Now, I was listening to a lovely version of "Poor Wayfaring Stranger" on the fiddle, looking at these pictures, the other day. Somehow the tune has tied itself to this old farm photo and my great-grandpa who was the fiddler in the family.
 
  There is no sickness, toil, nor danger
  In that fair land, to which I go
 
   I'm goin' home to see my mother
   I'm goin' home, no more to roam
   I'm just goin' over Jordan
   I am just goin' over home.
 
 Kind of a Ghost of Christmas Past kinda thing.... bringing us back together with family, past, present and future.

They found a fair land when they arrived here from Ireland. W/no more sickness, toil, nor danger.......than the places they'd left behind.
 
 Less than some places, today.
The kid and I will have to play that song tonight,
  - kateH

You see now, this is why I keep coming back to s.c.i., even w/ the shouting & the tumult.

This, & Boliath's shouting up the chimney to welcome Santa, of course.  & the hope that I might get some of Doc's Iced Spice Snaps or Cat(h)'s marzipan fruit;-)

Thank you, Kate... that made me both smile & cry.

Nuair a tháinig na páistí
le bláthanna na huaighe
mheasas gurbh aisteach é ar dtús
tú bheith thar n-ais
ag gliúcaíocht amaach orm
ó leac na fuinneoige.

Ach tháinig mé isteach air
diaidh ar ndiaidh is
bhraitheas go mba shuaimhneach
do theacht.

D’fhiafraíos díot ar thaitin
na hathruithe sa chistin leat
nó an raibh an bord níos fearr
taobh thiar den doras.

D’oscail tú do phiotail
is tharbharfainn an leabhar
gur dhein tú meangadh gáire
is bhí áthas orm gur tháinig tú
fiú go sealadach.

A Revisiting
trans., Gabriel Fitzmaurice

When the children came home
with flowers from your grave
I thought it strange at first
to have you back
peering out at me
from the window-sill.

But I got used to it
by degrees, and
felt your coming
was a peaceful one.

I asked you if you liked
the changes in the kitchen
or if the table was better
behind the door.

You opened up your petals
and I could have sworn
you smiled
and I was glad you had come back
even for a while.