July 28, 2017

Galway, Ireland. May, 1992

When I took my father on a vacation to Ireland after my mother had died, my patience steadily eroded and I thought I would go crazy from all the noise he made. At best, it was singing. Raised in a big Irish family, he knew all the songs. And he sang each and every one of them as I drove from Dublin to Waterford, from Doolin to Lisdoonvarna. The song he sang the most: “Galway Bay.” “If you ever go across the sea to Ireland, then maybe, at the closing of your day....” over and over and over. So when we finally arrived in Galway and settled into our B&B, I suggested that he and I go down to check out the fabled inlet. When we got there, he turned to me and said, “What’s the big deal? It’s not so great.” That’s my father. Still, after all that singing, I thought a picture was required. And here it is.

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