I have been overwhelmed by the amount of views and the number of shares that my last blog received.
Over the years while chatting with friends the conversation often turned to childhood and we’d swop stories about growing up in Ireland in the 80s and 90s. My stories, just like everyone else’s, would get a laugh or two. Mammy Byrne would receive lots of sympathy for having to put up with me, and now and then I’d be encouraged to put my tales in writing.
It took a while for me to commit my mad ramblings to the written word. I can still remember how nervous I felt pressing the button to publish my first effort.
I really enjoy writing my blogs. I am by nature a deep thinker. I love hearing stories of how my Mum and Dad met. What they did before they got married and had children, what they were like as children themselves and how they got on with their siblings. These insights create a family history that is truly unique.
I always wish I had listened more carefully when Dad recounted tales of his journeys overseas or his time spent in the Lebanon. He was a brilliant storyteller and could recall the names of places he had been at the drop of a hat. If only blogging had been around pre 1985, imagine the treasure trove of stories he could have left behind.
When I first started blogging I never imagined that anyone would be interested in reading them other than my friends and family. I am really, really grateful to all who have taken the time to read my mad ramblings. From my childhood school pals to people thousands of miles away in places like New Zealand, The US and Japan. I’d like to say a big thank you. My 9 year thinks I’ve gone viral because my blog has been read internationally!