Before I came to America to meet my big brother, John, he wrote that he had a surprise for me. I was puzzled because it was so unlike him to tease. John has always been the leader of our family. Even as a young boy, he was so serious and responsible that even Mam and Pap sometimes deferred to him. When he said it was finally time for me to come meet him in Sag Harbor, I was honored, flattered and so excited. He knew I wanted to come more than anything in the world. Ever since I can remember I dreamed of having an adventure and was waiting for John to send for me since he left a year ago. I should have been afraid to go, especially by myself, but just knowing that my rock, John, was there waiting for me gave me no hesitation. I missed him so much and what was keeping me here? Working on this farm until the day I die? Marrying and living on still a smaller piece of land? Having my children inherit an even smaller slice? I was ready.
John surely did have a surprise for me. In fact there were two. The first one I already knew about, his new wife Elizabeth, who surprised me with her sisterly affection. The other surprise was that he had someone special in mind for me to meet. When John arrived the year before, he met a brother and sister also from County Monaghan, not far from our home in the county seat, Monaghan town. Terence and Catherine McGuirk were as different as two sibling could be. Terence made John seem like a hail fellow well met. He was so shy that he barely spoke to me the first time I met him at a church gathering at the home of the Heffernans. I might not have noticed him but for his cornflower blue, far away eyes. I was smitten the minute I saw them. It seemed as if I could follow their gaze as far as I could travel and still not see over their horizon. His sister, Cath, was unlike any girl I have ever met. She, too, had the longing look, but had the restless nature to go with those eyes. I still miss her, but I will tell you her story another time.
My Terence was different from the young men I knew. For one thing, he was educated. He spoke beautifully and could read and write English fluently, something my family could only do in Gaelic. We attended “hedge schools” meaning that the classes were taught outside in between harvests. Terry’s family sent him to a proper school and even Cath could write well in English, something not many of our local girls could do. It was one of the reasons she thought she could go off on her own, even though she was a girl. She had ideas like no girl from Monaghan that I knew. Her brother was a bit different, also. Irish people love to talk, but Terry was quiet. They love to gather and stay awhile. Ter loved to stay at home. We are a dancing and singing people and love our stout, but Terry did not care for any of it. There was only one thing on his mind and in his heart, and that was land. Nothing going on in the town of Sag Harbor held much interest for him, because there were no rolling acres there. Parties, parades, fireworks, marches, concerts, all bored him. Tilling, planting, hoeing, and harvesting were the things that pleased him. He would not even marry me until he had made a deposit on his beloved land, so that it could be all ours in 10 years.
The little farm was not far from town, less than an hour buggy ride, and a bit longer to walk, in the town of Bridgehampton. I was lucky that when it got too quiet for me over there, I could steal away to town and be surrounded by our boisterous clan. Farm life agreed with me enough, for the most part because it reminded me of home. Even though we lived near the large town of Monaghan back in Ireland, I really didn’t mind the quiet, maybe because my brothers and sisters were anything but. Once Terry and I moved to Bridgehampton, it wasn’t long before John and Elizabeth moved next door to work the same land. We felt comfortable there as we met the owners at church gatherings, the Halsey family. They were kind, and gave us an opportunity that no one else wanted to give. Mr. Halsey never regretted it as we worked so hard that his profits increased. By the time John moved, our brother Charles was living with his family in Sag Harbor and Terry’s brother, Francis, known as Frank, was there also. Back home, as conditions grew worse, one by one, our stubborn relatives began to reconsider their attachments to home. Now that the letters were coming from more and different points of view, the dream of life in Sag Harbor and Bridgehampton grew more vivid and seemed more in reach to them. Until next time my darlings.
Tá mé chomh mór sin i ngrá leat, tá mé chomh doirte sin duit,
Your mother,
Susan
