By Gerd Eichmann - Own work,
CC BY-SA 4.0,
https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=77077363
Wishing on the Blarney Stone
Genre: Historical Recollections
(365 words)
During the self-guided tour, through enclosed areas
and ramparts, we climbed the 127 steps to the top of the castle. We rested
before approaching the Blarney Stone. Our cab driver Devlon offered practical
details about the consistency of the stone, limestone of some sort. His wife
Kerry focused more on the unlikelihood of any earthly gains through kisses and wishes.
In the spirit of tradition, we accepted the challenge
of kissing the stone which required a bit of gymnastics. It involved lying down,
bending slightly backwards while holding onto metal bars for support, and then
stretching forward to kiss the stone. Half-jokingly, most wished for riches and
fame. Others confessed to wishing for improved physique or heightened eloquence.
We descended slowly, stopping to view the countryside
and winding river. Kerry wandered off on her own, overcome by reminders of Ireland’s
history.
During a circuit of the gardens, we discovered an
ancient cemetery. We roamed the grounds, touching headstones. We created
imagined lives between recorded birth and death dates, the only biography
allotted to most people as they crossed over to whatever awaits all of us.
Kerry caught up with us in the parking lot. Apparently,
the Blarney Stone had kept its promise to her about eloquence. She had spoken
little on the way to the castle but was unable to stop talking on the return
trip. Devlon drove while Kerry shared her knowledge of Irish history based on stories
handed down from ancestors.
Only months
later, after translating the scribblings in my notebook, was I able to piece together
the information Kerry shared on the return trip from Blarney Castle. Although
the bitterness of her recollections bled through as she spoke, I had ignored
the devastation such memories must wreak upon the soul. Back in Wisconsin,
further research corroborated much of what she had related concerning the
effects of famine on the Irish population.
Even the role
England played in the spiraling conditions proved accurate. But the image of
vile degradation imposed on her ancestors, as she described the slow wasting
away of bodies, the inhumane burials of multitudes, and the stark fear
devouring the living, is not something easily assimilated on a well-nourished
belly.
*****
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