January 2020
Even now people here, including my boss last month, will ask me if I miss my family, am homesick, etc. Yes of course I miss my family and wish I could pop over for dinner once a week or tag along with my mom and her friends like I did for so many years growing up. It would be great to realise I don’t have whatever handy dandy item I need at that moment and just say to myself “it’s ok, I’ll just borrow my parent’s next time I’m over.” Alas that just isn’t the way things are, and haven’t been for about six years, so yes I miss them very much, as I do my best friends as well, but no I’m not homesick. I don’t tend to get homesick, and either way we’re long past the point where being far away is simply the norm.
Last year wasn’t even the first year I didn’t go home for Christmas. Two years ago when I was studying in Spain the two week break wasn’t quite long enough to justify the expense of going home and my final exams were in January so I had to study over the break anyway. So I spent that Christmas with my aunt, uncle, and cousins in Northampton, England, and it was really lovely to spend quality time with them, whether we were doing something or doing nothing at all. Last Christmas, because I’d only just moved to Ireland a few months prior and I already had plane tickets to visit the following May for one of my best friend’s wedding, I did the same and hopped over to England for a couple weeks. So this year I went home.
Note: We fully realised that we furthered the possibility of looking like a lesbian couple with the addition of the cat. Ah well!
Plane tickets to and from Orlando are never cheap, no matter when you buy them or when the dates are, and especially over the summer and at Christmas. Every flight is full of parents and children and groups going on their once-in-a-lifetime Disney holiday. So really the rule of thumb is to buy the tickets as far in advance as possible, but last summer ended up flying by and then I was very sick for a week in July and then I was in Zambia for two weeks and then work was insane because most of the senior engineers were on their holidays and suddenly it was mid-August and I still didn’t have flights booked for home. I ended up, for the first time in probably a decade, getting a non-direct flight, simply because the one direct flight (by Aer Lingus) had skyrocketed to twice the usual price. Unfortunately this meant a much longer overall journey, leaving my apartment at 3.30am the morning after my firm’s Christmas party, and an 8-hour layover in Gatwick on the way back, essentially eating up a day of jet-lag recovery before going back to work. Because I had only slept for 3 hours after the Christmas party and then was travelling for nearly 24 hours on top of the 5-hour time difference, I didn’t think I’d ever before been so jet-lagged in my life. My first day home I woke up at 2am and then had to take a nap at 9am, and Christmas was the first day I was even able to make it through the whole day without a nap Moral of the story: buy your plane tickets early (at least 6 months in advance), especially for Christmas.
Either way, I made it home exhausted but in one piece. The first few days consisted of a lot of sleeping, and a bit of baking of course. I made another bake-off spiced chocolate cake for Christmas, so by the end of December I was sick of it. Surprisingly, it rained the first several days that I was home. Usually when we say “it rains” in Florida, this means that it’ll rain for a few hours typically around the same time each day in the afternoon during the summer (the wet season). But when I say it rained, I mean it rained nearly nonstop, anywhere between a drizzle and a storm for about four days. The winter is supposedly the dry season, yet Christmas was the first sunny day we had. Even after that it still rained a fair bit, when usually in the winter it won’t rain for weeks at a time and it’ll be a lovely 65° F and clear and sunny all the time.
I had made zero plans with anyone ahead of time, partially because many of my friends no longer live in Melbourne anymore but also because I knew if I made plans then I’d probably end up being too busy. As it happened, I was pretty spot on! It ended up working out that I was able to catch up with a friend a day on average, and in some cases even with families of friends who were out of town at the time, going for a walk on the beach, going to the zoo, meeting up for coffee or lunch, or just hanging out at their house. My dad retired in December and finished up the week before Christmas and my mom was able to take a few days off around Christmas and in the few days before I left. She’s a physical therapist so it’s hard for her to get time off around holidays and in general, so that meant fitting in as much as possible in a short amount of time. We went to the zoo three times in a week to make use of their annual pass (which they get primarily just to support the zoo), so we went with friends the first time, then kayaking, then ziplining – since they put those in several years ago but I’ve never been able to go before because I’m not usually around.
Another special request of mine was to go see the Christmas lights in Wickham Park. Because Florida doesn’t have snow to worry about, companies sponsor a drive-thru Christmas light display and the admission fee goes to charity. We used to go see it every year when I was a kid and haven’t been since I went with some friends in high school (also one of them threw up in the middle of it) so the last night the lights were up I finally convinced my parents to go .
Having two weeks at home was a great time to catch up with friends and family, spend some time in Melbourne doing things I haven’t had a chance to do in a long time, and wear shorts for the first time in months. In reality it felt like the first time I’ve been home to Florida since moving to Ireland. Technically I did come back to visit for 10 days in May, but between Carina’s college graduation, Katie’s bachelorette, her and Eric’s wedding, three completely last minute cardiology appointments (turns out I’m fine, my GP was just worried), and spending what little leftover time I had with my family, I was hardly even sleeping in my own bed let alone finding any time to relax! The first morning after I arrived I had to be up early and fasting to have a blood test. The day before I had to fly home (so the morning of the wedding) I had to get up at 7am so I could get to the cardiology follow-up appointment – to find out if there was an issue or not – and get back in time to get ready with everyone else (all the bridesmaids had slept over at Katie’s apartment the night before). After the wedding one of the other bridesmaids got quite sick but everyone else had already left, so Carina and I had to find a way to get her home (which was an hour away, but thankfully we got her sorted eventually) because we were both leaving the state/country the next day.
It was great fun getting to see everyone and be present for some really important moments, but in all honesty that week was stressful from beginning to end. This time, at Christmas, I had no set plans, more time, more flexibility, no doctors appointments, and a lot of time to simply appreciate sitting at the kitchen table drinking tea with my mom, my dad coming with me to run some errands, walking the dogs, going to mass at my home parish (and seeing many familiar faces), cycling around the neighborhood in the lovely weather and without having to worry about too many cars on the roads (Dublin is quite congested), and being able to wear all the shorts and sleeveless shirts and sandals nearly every day.
On the flight home I was allocated the window seat in the first economy row, so literally right next to the main door of the plane (and this time no one questioned whether I was old enough to be sitting in an exit row). During taxi, take-off, and landing one of the flight attendants (he was English) had to sit in the fold-down seat facing our row and the take-off taxi ended up taking about 30 minutes so we ended up chatting. Of course the topic quickly turned to travel and he asked if I was leaving home or going home. He looked a bit thrown when I replied “both,” so I explained that both Florida and Ireland have always been home and are both still home but for different reasons. He said “oh sorry, I thought you were Irish!” and I probably looked just as thrown as he had.
Atticus, the stray cat who adopted us last summer (he followed me home twice) was thought to be between 3 and 4 years old as of last summer, so we decided that his birthday could be in January and he’d turn 4 this year, simply to mark and celebrate it. He got extra treats, partly for his birthday… and partly for having to wear the party hat and bow tie that my flatmate put on him.
I usually attend a Catholic young adult community on Wednesday nights called Living Water, and through that I’d heard of another community in Dublin called Pure In Heart that meets on Thursdays. Someone at LW mentioned that PIH was going to lead a hike at Ticknock (in the Dublin/Wicklow Mountains) one Saturday, purely for fun. It was accessible via public transportation, I enjoy hiking, and there was a decent chance I would know absolutely no one, so I figured why not! It ended up being a huge group, about 30 people, but I was right, I didn’t know anyone. So I ended up meeting a lot of lovely new people – including a girl who also had purple hair! It ended up raining for a short while, but it cleared up after that and was beautifully sunny.
Afterwards we regrouped at a Costa coffee shop for hot drinks and a late lunch, and I was chatting with the priest (who works with the PIH community) that had tagged along on the hike. He asked where I was from and I assumed he’d copped my accent so I gave the usual “oh I’m originally from Florida,” and he did a double take. “Oh sorry, I meant where in Ireland,” he said. “I didn’t realise you weren’t Irish.” I simply laughed and said it was no bother. I’ve learned that some people pick up on the accent right away and some don’t notice at all – it completely depends on the person apparently. It’s happened so often, and with increasing frequency, that I’ve started calling it accentual ambiguity. I personally don’t think I sound any less American or any more Irish, but I suppose you tell me!
P.S. In case you’re wondering, my New Year’s Resolution is to bake more bread.
Where in the World is Meriel 
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