Knockcroghery

Slept in. 9am. Jesus. First thing every morning is miss her. My little Róisín. Shes a big strong focused powerhouse now but she'll always be my little Róisín. She's coming soon. It's ok.

I hadn't done that since I got here.Slept in. Settling. Landed. Roots going down. Back. I'm back from Tír Na Nóg.

Met more people I knew from my childhood and tens and twenties. The same thing. Look at each other and smile then laugh because we're old as fuck now.

There's a compassion in us now. No time to be cool anymore. Life lessons well learnt.

Anyway out the door and up to the the filling station for milk. First thing out the door. I'm in Knockcroghery! I'm in Ireland! That is gold. Every day a good day.

Must get tae on board. Past Murrays Pub the home of Roscommon football and past Nana Anne's Restaurant the home of the Belly Buster fried breakfest and the freshest food in the county. Lovingly cooked fresh to your plate. None of your cook it all at 8am get it luke warm at 1pm bullshit. You order, they cook. Delicious. Homely. Caring. Friendly. Professional. A lighthouse for families and the bewildered single man.

Anyway on up past the statue of Jimmy Murray, captain of the All Ireland Winners in '43 and '44. People still alive that cycled up to Dublin for the matches on old High Nelly bicycles so heavy they were like peddling a Morris Minor.

Buy milk turn around head back. As I'm 100 yards from Nana Anne's I see a man get out of his car in the car park across the road.

Step for step we both closed the gap between us and Nana Anne's. 56,55,54.

He looked at the front of the Cafe. 34,33,32. Stepping closer he's on the road. 19,18,17. He's filled with hope and although older his face was lifting as he pictured the first bite into the fresh rasher with black pudding and a bit of tomato sauce with a mouthful of tea. Life can be tough but Lauren and Kassan had the cure. 5,4,3,2,1. Why is the door shut?

I'm beside him. He looks at me. His eyes fill with tears. Why? He asks silently. I say I know the pain you feel my brother. Nana Anne's isn't open Monday or Tuesday.

He places one hand on the wall for support and hides his eyes. But the big sob gave it away. Broken. His only hope snatched away.

I held him up before he slid down the wall arm stretched up to the morning sun fist clenched as he screamed "WHYYYYYYY!!".

Anyway back into the blue house I noticed the calender Mary Murray gave me of Birds Of Ireland was still on January.

I turned the page to the Merlin and once more to the Blue Tit. St Patrick will be here soon and Róisín. Life's chapters relentlessly unfolding.