Ould past tymes in Eire

It's been over a year now since I stepped on Irish soil. It is a fact I left part of me in a Dublin airport restroom just before going to Knock. Feeling deathly sick I regurgitated much of breakfast, lunch, and perhaps my soul into the toilet. Was this a portent? Nonetheless, I wish not to relive that moment. There is more good craic to recall- worship night at St. Vincent DePaul, ALPHA retreat, marvelous jaunts in the country, a night out in Westport, travelling the twisting roads along the coast to Mulraney, dancing in the kitchen, traversing paddocks to get to a ruined church and a castle.
It's has been a rocky road since then and I only feel that I am just recovering. I have grown wiser and patient although I feel like an exhile. There are thoughts that I was just an interloper with ulterior motives. Risk casts for destiny but often catches heartache. I attest to that.
Yet was it worth it?
Yes.
I am not finished with Ireland and I bet she is not finished with me either.
Slan.