Whenever I speak, I tend to be painfully aware of coming across as cheesey or corny. I'm not totally sure why but I'm guessing it has something to do with the fact that I like to smash overly cheesey or corny people. Many times, while talking with Kate, I'll find myself starting with the phrase "Not to sound corny, but...." I guess it's just a defense mechanism that a wise ass uses to keep himself in check.
So, with that being said......
Not to sound corny, but there is just something about flying into Dublin Airport that gives me a sense of home. Breaking through the clouds to see the symmetrical patterns of lush, green fields fills me with excitement but also calm. Moving through the familiar sections of the arrival terminal always brings back memories of past trips and adventures. Although I wasn't born here, there is always a part of me that feels like I'm coming back home everytime I cross the Atlantic. I suppose in a way, Ireland is a little piece of home. It could be the aunts, uncles and cousins who greet me with a "Welcome home!" when I arrive or maybe it's that piece of identity and culture that is sometimes missing in the melting pot of New York City. Also, I'm my father's son: he's Irish so I'm Irish. Coming back here reminds me of the place he left 50 years ago to start the life that I now have in America.
When Kate and I got through security we stepped outside to take a breath of "Irish" air. It was great, although it did include some cigarette smoke, which is one of many ingredients of Irish air along with peat and cow manure and others. We're getting on a plane to Scotland in a few hours but we're going to be right back here on Monday, ready to re-discover the land of our people.
(Wait, did that sound corny?)
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