Wednesday, July 30, 2014


As we gather in the Chapel, in olde Kilmainham jail
I think about the last few weeks, oh will they say, we failed
From our school days, they have told us, we must yearn for Liberty
Yet all I want in this dark place, is to have you here with me.

Oh Grace, just hold me in your arms and let this moment linger
They'll take me out at dawn, and I will die
With all my Love, I place this wedding ring upon your finger
There won't be time to share our love, so we must say goodbye.

Now I know it's hard for you, my love, to ever understand
The Love I bear for these brave men - my Love for this dear land
But when Padraic called me to his side, down in the G.P.O.
I had to leave my own sick bed - to him I had to go.

Now the dawn is breaking, my heart is breaking, too
On this May morn', as I walk out, my thoughts will be of you
And I'll write some words, upon the walls, so everyone will know
I Loved so much that I could see - His blood upon the rose.

Oh Grace, just hold me in your arms. . .

Sean O'Meara & Frank O'Meara 

30 July, 2014 

Friday, July 25, 2014


                         Much of our power comes from our past.  We have always drawn upon the 
ancient world for knowledge, for enlightenment, even for example.  Our philosophies, our 
political structures, our dramatic expressions have long been guided by the systems of olde 
civilizations.  More narrowly, we also draw upon our own particular ancestries.  Why the 
tradition of family portraits?  How often do we tease apart the branches of the family tree-
and grow fascinated?
                         It seems not to matter much if that olde family thread of ours is frail or
poorly traceable or even if it fades into obscurity.  We need the spirits of our past more than
we need the facts; we need the pride more than we need the proof.  And the more mobile we become, and the farther we travel from our point of origin, the more we seem to want to return.  
That is, if the Irish example can be judged; to have come from Ireland, no matter how long ago,
is to be of Ireland, in some part, forever.
                         Internationally, genealogical research has been one of the world's growing
pastimes.  Within our origins we search for our anchors, our steadiness.  And every one's
journey to the past is different.  It might be found in a legend or in the lore of an ancestor's courage or an  inherited flair.  Or it might be found simply by standing on the earth once owned
by a namesake tribe, touching the stone they carved, finding their spoor.  In all cases we are
drawn to the places whence they came - because to grasp who they were may guide what 
we might become.

~ Unknown

24 July, 2014