Broken Lives Matter

Our house closing draws nearer and nearer by the second. The date is set for Wednesday morning, and renovations to make it accessible for Mikel (and more comfortable for me) will begin that very day! The thought is thrilling and scary at the same time--as so many things in life are--and it sometimes feels like we'll never get everything into boxes before we make our quiet departure. Really though, despite the stress, and knowing that buying this house will put a considerable dent in our collective finances, Mikel and I are beyond excited. We have both always dreamed of having a home of our own and the amazing freedom that comes with it. Between packing we have gone through paint colors and talked about where we're going to place furniture. Last week I bought a tiny little red tea rose plant that I intend to train onto a trellis beside the garage. Sort of a symbol of who lives there; our song is "Red is the Rose"--the traditional Irish ballad. Indeed, if couples ha...

Tonight, as with many nights lately, the stresses of my life all seemed to be bearing down on and squeezing me from all sides at once. Our lives have become so full of concerns and aspirations that I find it difficult sometimes to catch my breath, and easy to forget I'm not alone. The latest, most exciting news is that Mikel and I are buying a home together. This is the first of many things we can do together, but alone would have been incapable of doing. It's the fulfillment of a dream for both of us; we long to get out of the apartment we live in--rapidly shrinking as I bring in more of my things, and we buy more together. It has not been easy! Buying a house would ideally be a joyful time full of excitement and planning for the future. Not so for us, I'm afraid. There have been break-in scares while it lies vacant, surprise costs, inspections to schedule, appointments to set up (and wait for), and many times my eyes have snapped open in the middle of the night with ...

Welcome to the New Year, everyone! Every moment of it has held a special excitement for me. Following the especially passionate kiss as the ball dropped in Times Square, my heart has pounded a little bit faster each time I told myself that this is the year I will be getting married. And our special day will be on a Wednesday, the Celtic New Year's Eve of Samhein. And yes, to those of you not familiar with the ancient calendar, this is also known as Halloween A lot of people's eyes have widened when we told them this, accompanied by a sometimes shocked, often insensitive comment. Why this day? Because it is sacred. Not just to us because it is our wedding day, but because it is the one day of the Celtic Year when the veil between the living and the dead is thinnest. Those that have left you return, to celebrate the sloughing off of the old year's (or in our case the old life's ) drudgery and sorrow. The thought is powerful for me; my dad died not too many years ago; th...

Because Mikel is a fiercely proud Celt but also a hopelessly sentimental guy, we've had a lighted Christmas tree making spirits in our apartment bright for months. We've started a tradition of giving each other gifts the entire month of December, in the lead up to the 22nd, which marks the ancient, significant holiday of Yule. Christians know it as Christmas, and celebrate (as I have happily every year with my family) on the 25th. Until now, however, there has always been just the tiniest inkling of something missing. I felt a lack of reverence and respect for what the day really meant. And I felt a very strong need to understand it better. My introduction to the Celtic version of the holiday seemed to bring everything into focus. Suddenly, in our dim great room sharing meaningful gifts by the light of the Yule tree, I felt like a kid again, wrapped up in the excitement of it, overjoyed that it was something special and unique to us. I'd asked Mikel to be sure that I...

August 4th, 2011. I had known Mikel two months, been living with him less than one, and was still feeling the "newness" of our relationship, as if I had just met him, although we'd been talking every single day since exchanging phone numbers. Around my neck I wore the gold promise ring he'd given me the day we met in person on a chain; it was many sizes too large. It stood as a reminder of his words to me; "this isn't a ring, it's a promise." So I knew we'd commit to each other officially sooner or later, but with the shine still on our courtship, I really hated to rush things, or even wish they'd go faster, although part of me certainly did. The day began with Mikel waking me up with "You Are My Sunshine", which surprised and touched me.Because of his hearing difficulties I never expect Mikel to know a lot of music, let alone lullabies! This song in particular my dad used to sing to me and my sister when we were little, plus ...

Here is a close up of my engagement claddagh (two hands clasping a crowned heart) with a pink tourmaline stone. Below it is the ring Michael proposed to me with-- his wedding band. It is white gold with Celtic-inspired cuts and swirls that make it look like a band of diamonds. I wear both with immeasurable pride. Michael and I met through an online dating site when we were both about to despair of ever being matched with anybody we liked--that much you know. What I haven't said yet is that after two weeks of exchanging messages with him through the site, all the time marveling to myself at the beauty and sincerity of his responses, and how poetic and thoughtful and honest they seemed, he and I decided to disable our accounts on the website and communicate only through text messaging on our phones. This turned out to be ideal, because Michael is legally deaf, with only about 40 percent of his hearing, which would have made it very hard to carry on a traditional telephone conve...

Both about to cancel our memberships to yet another online dating site in desperation, we looked twice at each other, and all it took was one simple question.My now fiance prompted in his lengthy profile (one of the few I actually read with interest all the way to the end)--"what is your favorite Irish song?" Well! Those words could not have been more provocative to this lover of all things Irish. Though there is not a drop of Irish blood in my body by birth, I studied there my last semester of college eight years ago and it touched my heart. Since then it has always been part of me, and little did I know it shaped my desires for a partner to spend my life with. Years later, back in the college town that saw my passion for what I call "the green flame"--that special magic uniquely Irish, I have found one whose passion mirrors mine. This is a blog to share the story of how I, Amelia, met Michael, and we knew almost immediately that our search had ended. Both with...