Well now that heading does more than sum me up. I've always loved that I don't just think outside the box I tend to write on the box and draw windows and a door on it.... sometimes I even stretch to a little path and an iron gate. The gate of course is to keep the bad guys out and they stay out coz I tend to draw badly so my gate looks like the teeth of an octopus. Hey they've lots of legs so I'm assuming they've lots of teeth......
But truth be told most of us think outside the box, we just don't tend to draw attention to it. Easier that way I reckon, we can move through life quietly and no-one notices when we react to life in a different way.
I've gotten a serious reaction to my #lovelongford posts.... like serious amazing reaction and I'm blown away by it. I l started the #lovelongford posts with a rant about people hating on Longford and it's grown legs. To be honest it really started from a conversation with my kids. They're both abroad and every now and again they tell me that they're lonely for home. It aches to hear because I'm lonely for them but I also love hearing it because I'm so proud of them flying on wings we gave them.
They miss home and I miss them and sometimes I feel like I'm the one that's away coz missing them leaves me drowning in a strange place and you tend to grasp at anything that can rescue you.
So I grasped at the one thing I know... home.
I'm visiting Longford like it's my first time there and for some of the places I'm visiting it is my first time there in years. And I can hear the future.. and the present and most of the time I can hear my past.....
I hear my father shushing us because there's eight of us and he can't hear himself think while he drives and I hear my mother sighing because there's eight of us and she has long since forgotten how to think at all with the racket we make.
But they took us places and spread out old shabby blankets and soggy sandwiches for the picnics they had packed and told us that we were having the best day but we were all too busy fighting amongst ourselves to understand that... too busy shouting over each other to see the look that fell between them when they locked eyes and ceased to hear their lunatic children not appreciate what we were too young to appreciate.
So I've decided to appreciate the place they raised us... the place they sleep in. I've decided to drive the roads Daddy drove down at five mile an hour...(everyone remembers Christy at five miles an hour stopping for everyone he could fit into the car)
I've decided to walk the paths they lead us down and I've decided that I'll pay tribute to every church in the county and every religion those churches represent because our past sleeps there... our souls rest there waiting for us to remember what they lived for and fought for and when my two wandering children return I will shush them as I drive them to the places I'm visiting and I won't be able to think straight with their chatter but I'll remember to tell them that they're home....
I'll always remember to tell them that they're home
They come from Longford.....
Valerie Masters
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