I’m in Cork for the weekend for my sister’s birthday. I haven’t been down since the summer. I went to inspect my parents’ gravestone; newly inscribed. It was a bit damp and gloomy, perfect cemetery weather.
And I inspected the work my sister has done in her attic. It’s all thrills.
I went for a walk around the Honan Chapel and thought about how my family history intersected with this Celtic revival church.
Because I don’t live here or even visit very often now, Cork has become a place of memory and reminders of the past for me. I’m not sure how I feel about that.