Old Photos and the Sea

When my cousin Padraig's mother died, she left behind a suitcase full of old photographs. We went through them, finding pictures from across a hundred years. Mixed in are a few photos from my side of the family, as well as pictures from the turn of the century.

I was named after my great-grandmother, Bridget Conlon. I found a black and white photograph with worn edges of her standing in the fields of the family farm, arms crossed, looking off in the distance. The expression on her face embodies her personality, her philosophy, and her life. It is a look of strength and dignity, in the face of poverty and loss.

I also saw a photo of me as a baby. My mom dressed my sister and me the same way throughout my childhood...

We went out fishing again, this time around to the other side of the cliffs. We could see people hiking along the top, so tiny I could barely catch them on my camera. The sea was much choppier, and they had a lot of trouble catching anything. I had no problem with that.

On the way back across the bay, my cousin let me drive. Flying parallel to the swells, so that the boat was always pulling out to sea, I struggled to keep a course as we zoomed along. Almost airborne at times, darting among the waves, I was sure the boat would flip. When we stopped, my cousin Gerry teased me endlessly. Apparently it was quite bouncy in the back of the boat...