2005: A Loving Post-mortem

My year started out full of uncertainty and promise. I had the entire month of January to sit around in St. Louis and think about my upcoming trip to Ireland. I never thought I couldn't do it, but going to live in another country carries with it some tough baggage. Save for one dear friend who would join me in Ireland, I left everything and everyone, and indeed everywhere, I knew back at home. Everyone, except for one, Bonnie, who would also have her own overseas adventure that spring; I will never forget the power behind that goodbye. It was time, though. Life was calling.

Before I left, though, another piece of the Gilmore clan came together. Sarah, my first niece, came into this world a few days before liftoff. She’s sure to have quite a life, surrounded by her older brother Joe and five older male cousins. I wish her luck the first time she ever brings a boy home to a family party. But she’s still working on crawling, so first things first I suppose. It was quite a long and emotional trip from a tearful embrace at 1258 Arthur in Chicago to an exhausted entrance at my new apartment at Grove Island in Limerick, but a good nap helped to raise my spirits, and there was no looking back from there. I would be living with three of the coolest girls ever, Ellen, Holly, and Megan, and Sven, our Swedish-named, German delight. The four of us, sans Sven, were all from Loyola, so we held a distinct advantage over Sven, who was still trying to master the intricacies of the English language (and as it turned out, his own personality).

My school for the semester, Mary Immaculate College, was a division of the University of Limerick that used to be a teacher training school, so that might account for the 7:1 female to male ratio. However, “Mary I” is a school of only 2,400 students, and apparently at a small Irish school, you would never even think about dating (because “if things went bad you would see them all the time!”). I shrugged my shoulders and joined the International Student Society instead.

Through the International Student Society (which a few Irish students also joined), in addition to other Americans, I quickly became friends with people from all over Europe: France, Germany, Belgium, Switzerland, Poland, England, Sweden, Austria, and Italy. Luckily, not only did everyone speak English at varying capabilities, but they also all understood the importance of learning how to say (and perform) “cheers!” in many different languages. Even though society meetings were often held at local pubs, we had our heads on straight long enough to organize weekend trips to the Dingle Peninsula and Belfast, along with plan parties, an international food night, and other nights out around Limerick.

Outside of the International Society, I joined a couple other groups around campus. At Holly’s urging, I joined her one night at practice for an improve comedy troupe, and next thing I knew, I was part of the troupe myself. I’m not sure what happened, but it turned out to be some of the best fun I’ve had in a long time. The semester was highlighted by two performances, including one all-expenses paid trip across the country to Dublin to compete in the Irish Student Drama Awards.

I also decided to take part in the school choir, and every Tuesday night we met and practiced Händel’s Acis and Galatea. Not knowing any better, I randomly joined the tenors when asked whether I was a tenor or a bass. They looked like they could use another voice. Now, I’m hardly a plus singer, but I must say, I stuck with it the whole semester and actually had a good time. I donned a nice dinner suit for the performance at the end of the year in St. Joseph’s Church and gave it everything I had.

My classes weren’t much of a concern at Mary I. They were interesting enough, but rarely did I find myself stressed out. Highlights of my class lineup included learning a bit of the Irish language, studying Irish culture, sport, and music, and a production class where I helped create four 30 second television advertisements and a 15 minute documentary on Adapt House, a local domestic abuse shelter. The class required a lot of work, but I enjoyed the necessity of working closely with the other students in my group, most of whom were Irish.

In an attempt to experience as much of what the country has to offer, I decided to stick within Ireland until my exams were over. So, weekends were typically spent traveling around the country. I had a perfect travel partner in Ellen, and one of the most memorable weekend trips was our trip to Westport, where we took part in some of the best music we’d seen and climbed Croagh Patrick, the mountaintop from which St. Patrick is said to have cemented Ireland’s ties to Christianity.

I even had a few visitors during my four month stay in Ireland. Over spring break, my parents and I explored much of Southwest Ireland, and a few weeks later, Brother John, Cousin Martin, and Friend Ned made a pilgrimage to the homeland and Ellen and I joined their trip in progress in Galway for what would be a crazy weekend.

After my finals were over in May, I had a little over two weeks before I was coming back to the States. So, I embarked on a 14 day solo trip over to the continent. Because of a freakish chance meeting with a buddy from home in a London airport on my way to Rome, I met up with some more friends once arriving in the Eternal City. After parting ways with them, I backpacked it around Switzerland, Germany, Holland, Belgium, before meeting up with a few friends from Mary I in Paris. I cannot say enough about how amazing the two weeks were on my own. I went skydiving and hiking through the Swiss Alps. I saw the sun shine over Dachau. I spent half an hour staring at the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. I explored a slice of paradise in Bavaria. I was dwarfed by the grandeur of St. Peter’s Basilica. I wandered around the streets of a medieval city in Belgium. I shared beer and conversation with locals until four in the morning. I met and spent days with other backpackers. I saw what Paris looks like from the top of the Eiffel Tower at night. I figured out how to get around Europe with only a train ticket, not even a plan. I let my instincts take me where they will. I dreamed.

As you would expect, coming home to St. Louis for the summer was a mixed bag. I had been living each day abroad totally unsure of how it would play out. Days at home were much more predictable, but it was very nice to be reunited with family and friends. I was sad to leave Ireland, a place whose people I found to personify the meaning of hospitality and compassion.

My summer was spent just trying to recover, physically, emotionally, and indeed, financially, from my time in Ireland. Money was made caddying for the ninth summer in a row and working for Brother John. Back at Mary Queen of Peace, my grade school parish, I played piano in the Noon Mass Band, helped chaperone a trip to the Steubenville Youth Conference, and had an opportunity to lead an after-Mass activity for the youth group. In preparation for October’s Chicago Marathon, running was a staple of most days. I caught up with friends when they were around, but things were already starting to change, as many stayed at school to work. I caught up with Bonnie, with much to talk about and absorb from our semester abroad. I didn’t expect things to be the same, but things had definitely changed. As summer bled into fall, it slowly became clear that our paths had diverged as a couple. By the end of the summer, I was ready to get back to Loyola and begin my senior year.

Senior year started much the same way that much of the summer went – with many miles being run. Like in 2004, when I really only knew one other person doing the marathon, I wasn’t doing it alone among my friends this year. Some of them, and others I didn’t know, decided to train and do the race as well. Through group training runs, I got to know some new people, including one special woman, Lisa.

Lisa shared my dedication to the rigors of the training schedule, so the two of us ran together quite a bit. It’s amazing how much you can learn about a person when you spend early mornings running side-by-side with them. On top of our runs together, we slowly added other encounters: swimming in the pool, breakfast in the cafeteria after weekday runs, Masses, Youth for Christ meetings, and next thing I knew, a week before the marathon, we went out on our first date. After the marathon, we eventually decided to make things more official, and she turned her Claddagh ring around to show she was taken. There was no turning back at that point.

Marathon Day (October 9) was a triumph of grand proportion for me. Powered by a boisterous cheering section, I spent the first half of the race cruising along with Brother John before pulling away in the second half. Not only did I run the second half of the race slightly faster than the first, but I finished in 3:28, a full 26 minutes faster than my debut effort last year and two minutes under my “dream” goal of 3:30. And there’s nothing quite like the feeling of downtown Chicago on Marathon Day and having your parents among the 1.2 million screaming spectators.

Other highlights of the semester: a football weekend spent at Notre Dame with Lisa, a YFC (Youth for Christ) retreat, singing in the 10pm Mass choir, watching a short play I wrote being read onstage, a roommate Thanksgiving dinner, freezing my balls off (literally) in a snowy cross country race with some great friends, spending Thanksgiving and Christmas at home in St. Louis and getting to show Lisa around my hometown, another Christmas sweater party, dressing up in a full-gear Santa outfit on Christmas Eve, and my first New Year’s Eve spent in Chicago.

With the onset of 2006, I’m making my way into a momentous year. I’m scheduled to become a college graduate in May, a feat that I really hope I can stop and appreciate. Not only have I worked hard academically to get to this point, but I truly do feel fortunate to have been in a position to achieve this in the first place.

On top of graduation, I’m also set to continue my quest onward into the “real” world. I’m not sure where I’ll be or what I’ll be doing in six months, and as scary as that is, it’s also quite exciting. I feel like I’m ready to take the next step, bringing with me what I have come to learn in the past while forging ahead into my future.

2006 Resolution #1: Resurrect this blog to the lofty heights it reached while I was abroad.