Goodbye to the American Me

As an Irish immigrant in the U.S., I sometimes feel there are two of me; the Irish me and the American me.

Recently I asked myself the question - how do I pack up over 20 years of my life in the United States and head home to Ireland, the country of my birth? How do I fit 20 years of both physical and emotional baggage into the same two suitcases I arrived with, along with my pressed pants and button down shirts?

You see, my sister Michelle (43), passed away from renal cancer in January 2007, leaving her husband Richard to raise their two children, Rachael (4) and Christopher (3).
I am 42, single and gray around the temples; not a Richard Gere gray but a worn gray like an Irish Spring day. I have lived in the United States for the majority of my life and six months before my sister passed away, I never thought about visiting Ireland even on my time off. My sister and I had a strained relationship, with years when we did not speak to each other, followed by chatter and silence once more. My parents died years ago and my only other close relative, my brother David, lives in California. Since Michelle’s passing, I made several trips to Dublin, and each time I found returning to the U.S. more emotionally wrenching than the one before. You see, I have developed a connection with my niece and nephew, Rachael and Christopher, an emotional bond that I never felt before. They make me happy, something I have not felt in years.

I grew up in Dublin in the 1970’s and 80’s, then a city with 25% unemployment, nothing like today’s Dublin. I moved to the U.S. at 22, and I have remained here ever since. Back then, I believed those who stayed in Ireland for the dry years did not have the right stuff to leave. Now I believe I did not have the right stuff to stay.

On my last visit to Dublin in March, as I sat alone in the departure lounge at Dublin Airport waiting on my return flight to America, I thought about moving back to Ireland permanently for the first time since moving to the States all those years ago. I considered what I might gain and what I might lose by returning home. I ‘balanced all and brought all to mind’ as Yeats said. My thoughts fell naturally into three arenas - family and friends, home and career.

Family and Friends:
In the past, my relationship with family was strained and in particular with my sister Michelle. We spent years in silence before she was diagnosed with cancer. I was not aware of my niece and nephew’s existence until a year before Michelle’s death when she reached out to fill the void. Ireland will give me the opportunity to connect on a deeper level with Rachael and Christopher; on a level that a six-day vacation cannot provide. By returning to Ireland, I will have the opportunity to read them bedtime stories and watch them peacefully drift off to sleep – content. In turn, I hope to find some peace of my own. I long to make myself content. But more importantly, I want make a difference in their lives and in return, they mine.

Living abroad, I missed my neighborhood friends. I shared my formative school days with Robert, Alan and Noel. I drank my first can of Harp in St. Anne’s Park with those guys before stumbling to the Grove, in Raheny. I missed the long nights and loud laughs or was it loud nights and long laughs, we enjoyed back then and they still enjoy, today.

My U.S. friends Tony, Dan and Lynn, played a huge part in my adult life here. My relationship with family was at times strained, so friends filled the void when needed. Since I have lived abroad longer than I have lived in Ireland, I shared most of my adult memories with my American friends. The tragic events of September 11 and the massive snowstorm that crippled New York City in 2006 come to mind. I have shared some of the happiest and saddest moments of my life with my American friends. We celebrated their weddings and subsequent births and we cried at funerals. In hindsight, I have lost touch with my State side friends. In the last year, I spent more time with my old neighborhood friends on my trips home, than with my State side friends. As you grow older, some friendships solidify but most just fade away.

Home:
I will miss the comforts of my one bedroom, rent controlled apartment with a view of the New York City skyline and outdoor swimming pool. My apartment is ideal, except I spend half my monthly pay check to live there. I will miss my stuff - my big green sofa, my bicycle and my Dodge sedan. I like my Dodge despite the fact that I have not driven it anywhere for over a year. I used to use my car to visit friends in New Jersey, but not anymore.

Unfortunately, I do not own anything in Ireland. I don’t own property, a car or furniture, so for the first couple of months I will stay with my brother-in-law Richard, until I get on my feet. On the plus side, I have a thin Irish bank account and once I start working, I hope to fill it again.

Career:
I had a mixed career in America. I moved from manual labor, to the service industry and eventually to my white collar job in media, after I got my bachelors degree at 39-years old. Today I work for one of the big three television networks in New York. Working in television was my dream job but like all jobs you get into a rut and the luster fades. I work a second job bartending on weekends to make ends meat.

Finding a job in the motherland will be my immediate concern. I worked in a bakery briefly after I left secondary school, but that was the sum total of my working life in Ireland. I was part of that 25% unemployed before I moved to the U.S. I plan to find a better paying job in Dublin, preferably in media. I look forward to two privileges Irish workers take for granted; the five-day workweek and the glorious five weeks vacation.

As I sat in Dublin Airport in March, contemplating my present and my future, I was struck by a moment of clarity. Just as my flight was called and I stood up to board the plane, I concluded that it was o.k. if I did not return to the States that day. In fact, it was o.k. if I never returned to my American life again - because for the first time in my life, I was content to stay.