MONDAY, AUGUST 5
Chloe slept late. She needed it. I took Saffi on her morning walk, then settled into some writing. Things calmed on the flood front. Olive and family stopped by to check the floor and find insurance papers. They also brought additional dehumidifiers. The hum was constant. The wood floor bowed and settled. But all told, the day was back to normal.
In the afternoon, we walked the purple trail (I think), the long, looped walk past the lake and up a long hill in the direction of Skibbereen, looking back toward Castletownsend.
We are often quiet on our walks, or talk about what we see, or what we will eat for dinner, simple, silly things. Sometimes we reminisce about the places we’ve been and wonder aloud about what it will be like to carry this experience into our next phase, reentry. There is much anxiety surrounding our return, for both of us.
We wondered aloud what it might be like to live in this remote place without family, and how particularly hard it would be for me without a partner. Fiona is single but Olive’s family is her family, really, so she has that.
Modelling in Dublin came up. Chloe decided not to pursue it, but wait until returning to Vancouver, to see if other opportunities arise. Dublin isn’t her favorite choice. A wise decision. I marvel at her ability to think things through before she acts. Not a shared talent.
Walking and thinking go hand in hand for me. I asked Chloe if it is the same for her. She said, yes, when she is with me, but when she is alone she is too stressed to let her mind wander where it chooses.
In the evening, we fought. This too seems to be part of the Ireland experience. But sometimes, it’s through fights we learn and open up a little bit. This wasn’t initially the case as our disagreement sent me into a dizzying plummet. On the bench outside, I watched three crows fly over the hill, and thought to myself, it wouldn’t matter if I lived here alone. No one would miss me.
It became abundantly clear to me that Chloe needs her independence in order to know her beauty and power, her kind heart, to learn what it is she needs to do for herself. She came outside to sit beside me. We watched Saffi chew on her toy. It was quiet except for the wind in the grasses. I told her what I was thinking.
The tension evaporated. We went inside to eat some gorgeous food Chloe had prepared — mushroom beet pasta, a salad…and later a peach pie. Cooking and eating is definitely one of our Irish things!
