Today I got a phone call from Frank and Victoria with an invite to join the team in Tyrone. Talk about freaky. My prayer was answered. Of course I had to break it to my family that I was going without them, but they'll get over it someday.
My plan is to keep the daily blog going, provided I get internet. Hugh Cummiskey was from Crossan, Tyrone. Today there are no Cummiskeys in the area. Crossan is no more than a series of houses. But to some of us it is like visiting the pyramids or the Colosseum. It is what I've dreamed of. But I do not go alone. I go with the folks who first told me of the struggles of those first Irish. The old lady with the heavy brogue who took care of the parish priest when I was a kid. She spoke of the troubles they had and how lucky we are. I go with my dad who loved his heritage and was sure to tip his hat when he crossed in front of St Pats. I go with with Ed Harley who was one of the starters of this journey. There are so many, but I bring them with me. While I am thrilled to go, I also approach this as a duty, an obligation.
Send me your questions. I'll try to get answers. Well I'm off to get some Wellies.