Tending Our Irish Roots

Canadians live in a land of immigrants who never forget their homeland. Most Canadians love this great country and have found it to be a peaceful place where they can flourish, enjoy freedom, and educate their children.  However, deep in their hearts, immigrants long to visit their homeland and do so, if possible.  This longing is true in my own family that emigrated from Ireland prior to the Great Irish Famine of 1845-1847. 

My great-grandfather arrived in Canada with his three brothers and two sisters. As a young man, he arrived in Huron County. There, he purchased and cleared land from the Canada Company, married the maiden from across the fields and became part of an Irish settlement that prospered as the generations passed.  

His brothers and sisters settled nearby. Of course, the new settlers missed family and friends in Ireland but visiting their roots was not an option.

Years passed and our grandparents kept the stories of Ireland alive in our minds.  Finally, during the ‘60s, when families had saved sufficient funds, the third generation Irish in my area began to realize their long-held dreams to visit the land of their ancestors. My generation, the fourth, followed suit as we longed to visit our motherland where our ancestors had toiled to make a living under the heavy hand of the British.

Our Michigan cousin, a history buff, researched all things Irish. He and his family made several trips to the Old Sod and encouraged us to do likewise.  In preparation, we studied his detailed outline of our family in the Galway region.

In 2013, I had an opportunity to cross the ocean and bask in the sights and sounds of Ireland. As we landed at Shannon airport, old songs of Ireland once sung around our living room piano, came rushing to my mind.  My heart sang, “Where the River Shannon Flows” as I walked over its famous bridge at twilight.  “Christmas in Killarney” came to mind in that pretty city.  Of course, “Galway Bay” hummed in my heart as I sat on a wooden bench staring into peaceful water surrounded by gentle morning mist.  A few days later, at the end of our bus trip around the famous Ring of Kerry, who appeared coming out of a rest area building but my first cousin Ann and her husband from Windsor.  They too, were exploring Ann’s Irish roots.  We were surprised and delighted!

Now in our sixth generation, my brother and his wife recently took their daughter and son, his wife with baby in utero and their two-year-old daughter to see the beauties of Ireland.  The children are young, but already they have been inducted into tending our Irish roots.

-Sister Jean Moylan, CSJ 🍀


Header Image: Unsplash/Philipp Baumann; All other Images: The Moylan Family.