And it was a grand and lovely young life I had myself,for my father loved me more than his own dear life.Almost as much as he had loved his dear wife.But this is no place for melacholic thoughts ,as I seemed to have none as a youngster.
I was a hellion according to my father and I was outright "wicked " according to my auntie Dierdre.Father wanted me to be filled with joy,and to find love.Auntie Diedre just wanted me to be a lady,and not the "feirce little heathen who would scare off a norseman". both had but moderate successes.
When my mother died giving birth to me, my father did not leave her side for three days.He also insisted on washing and dressing her for her interment.It was allowed because his guilt and sorrow would allow nothing else.After she was lain to rest my father was said to have retreted deep within himself and would speak to no one.He did not move himself from the room where my mother died nor would he be moved to feed himself except by slow coaxing as one would feed a recalcitrant child. It was painfully clear to all that he wanted no part of this world but would as soon join his wife should things thus continue.
Once again my clever Auntie had a solution to this delemma.
She simply walked up to my father and plunked me down into his arms.
"I am not a nursemaid for your child." she said,making sure she sounded both harsh and disgusted.She wasn't really even mad,but knew he'd soon tear himself in half with grief and leave me an orphan if he did not stop it soon.
"You must care for her now,or set her out for the wolves to eat for their midwinter feast."
The shock of Diedre's words nearly made him drop me I am told.
He looked up at her in a very lost way and asked "What am I,a man, to do with this mewling child? Can I teach her to be a warrior? A man? Anything I know how to be?"
"are you an honorable irishman? can you teach her honor? are you an adult? can you let her become one?"
and she left the house.
It was a full week before she came again to our home,by which time Da had hired a nursemaid for me and was a far cry from the hollow shell of grief he had been the day of my birth.
When she did come Diedre brought new linens and swaddlings with her but that was all she'd do.She did not bathe me or cook for Da but simply partook of his hospitality as she gently and slyly checked up on us both to see that we were well.We were.
Da had taken me in his arms that first day when Diedre left and simply sat lost until I screamed at him for some baby-ish need or simply upset.Da said I sounded so much like my Ma scolding him for sloth,that he could do nothing save rise to his feet and try anything and everything to soothe my wails.
From that day on my position in my father's house was set in stone as hard as a menhir.While I was not spoiled by my father,if I could give him a good reason,I always got my way.
When the time came for my father to go "a'rovin'" as he put it we could not bear to be separated.I was but two years old and had hardly walked my first steps,but my nurse swears that I stomped my tiny foot on the floor and screamed "I go too! or Da no go!!!" Upon hearing this my father roared with laughter,and told Shannon,my nurse to pack ourselves for a journey.
Although those were not my first words,they certianly were ones to live my young life by.If my father went on a voyage,I went as well.
But our travels are a story for another day.......
