So it’s been a good week so far. And now I’m writing this on a rainy afternoon, while listening to Anne Shelton sing my mother’s favourite album, with a wee tear in my eye because I realise that after all these years I still miss that soft lilt of Mum’s. And I come to the conclusion that although I love Scotland dearly it’s Ireland that is my spiritual home.
Which sets me thinking that maybe one of these days the Big Sis and I, with the help of our cousin John Lane, will finally discover the location of grandfather Patrick’s long-neglected grave. Then maybe, God and viruses willing, all the cousins can come together to celebrate the Lane legacy. Maybe.