Light for the Way. 

Yesterday I returned to the surgeon in Cork. I hadn’t met him since October last. The journey is three hours by car. There was a great sense of deja vu as we drove the familiar road from Killarney to Cork. The countryside is slower to green this year compared to last year. For six weeks last year I knew this road so well as I went for chemo/radium. I am with Kathleen and Ann as we travel. They have been my continual support and have shared this journey with me. We always started our journey with the Rosary Prayer. I always feel it connects us with the divine and like the individual beads of the Rosary with the rest of people, alive and dead. It builds the bank of prayer that can give strength to others in times of need – a bank of prayer I feel I  owe so much to.  

 As we leave the Killarney Valley the Pap Mountains are to our right – the two breasts of the ancient goddess Danu who gave her name to the river Danube as devotion to her crossed over Europe from India. We hear in our news now of refugees crossing over Europe. We pass the birthplace of Noel Dermot O Donoghue, the first Catholic to be appointed to the University of Edinburgh since the Reformation. Noel in his writings described another dimension to reality that we Celts could sense. Dropping down into Ballyvourney we passed the holy well of St. Gobnet, the woman of the bees. 

  Bees that can sting like radium but can also cure like radium. We met my cousin Marie off the Dublin train and then went to meet Mr. Whooley.

The pristine architecture of the Lee Clinic is the same. The professionalism of the staff, the comings and goings of people. The surgeon’s examination is precise and focused. His questions clear, detailed and I felt heard. All the indicators are moving the right direction and before the end of the month I will be back for a day visit to the hospital for a scope and scans to confirm this further.

Leaving the Clinic in the sunlight I felt great relief and again gratitude. The news was encouraging and the holding position I was in for the last few months, made the irksome times tolerable. Surrounded by Kathleen, Ann and Marie on the way home I felt held and supported by the practical love of so many. The heavy traffic through Macroom, the decent into Kerry, the passing showers, the evening light; all took on a favourable hue. The road home was paved with silences that were filling. When, near home, we arrived at the top of the hill and looked north towards Clare over the Shannon Estuary, I thought of life as a story, flowing like the Shannon river. I see it through my own eyes and what happens out there compares little to how I take it in. And I thought of the frustrated prophet Job, ” You will decide on a matter and it will be established for you and light will shine on your ways.”22:28. 



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