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It is no mystery why Mom wanted to return here. Having fallen into a state of disrepair, the monastery has lost its roof though its thick stone walls still stand, covered by a heavy layer of vibrant green vines. Within the walls of the monastery is a sheltered silence, punctuated only by the sing song of birds as they flitted in and out of the vines throughout the service. As Steve recited Mom's favourite poem, I could clearly hear her reciting it in chorus and acting it out exactly as she used to when we were kids. From the headstone is a direct view through the regal archway and down the rolling green hills out onto the Shannon Estuary. The blended aroma of Irish lushness and sea air are so fitting. Mum has come home.




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