Discovering Family (post and photos by mary)

The old Coakley Castle: my father filled us with tales of ancestral royalty and inheritance.  It was the Blarney that made him promise these grand things!

Well, summer is gone and our adventures have moved on to Australia.  But before I get into that story, I just want to tell you about my quest to discover my family roots.  As you know, my detour to England was to celebrate my dear Mother’s 80th Birthday party in May and to stay on until September to celebrate Matt’s dear Mother’s 80th.  In between, I successfully embarked on traveling around England, Wales and the Republic of Ireland to meet my long lost family.

At the pub in Salisbury with sisters Geraldine and Myrtle, Aunt Tomasina, Uncle Simon, Mom and brother Andrew.

My parents immigrated to Canada in 1955 and I claim to be the first born Canadian of all our relations.  My cousin, Peter Brown, cleverly charted out the matriarchal family tree and produced evidence that his brother, Michael was in fact, the first born Canadian.  Technically that may be true, but he left Canada as a small boy and has never returned.  My claim is strong (in my own mind).  I had visited England as a wee infant, then as a curious 6 year old.  I have vivid memories of that summer in England, meeting my grandparents, aunts, uncles and many cousins.  And from then on, held them dearly in my heart – a fantasy family that I never met again until I was 54!  Naturally, they were most pleased to hear from me and welcomed me for a visit.

In Weymouth with Aunt Jane, cousins Michael (technically 1st born Canadian) and Dominic and his wife Michelle.

  It is a strange thing to burst into someone’s life that you have either never met or haven’t met for 47 years.  All were very welcoming, some were a bit nervous about what sort of trouble I would be as a guest and others opened their doors scolding me for being late (in this case not for my usual tardiness, but for not having visited sooner!).  I figure I visited 38 relatives and met up with another ten at my Mother’s party.  I also visited the spirits of three Great-Uncles at Westminster Cathedral (check out my previous blog on them).  Apparently there are still many more to seek out on another quest.

Uncle Simon looking particularly dapper on his way to his church men’s group meeting.

In my travels, I visited Birmingham and marched with my Aunt, cousin and her two sons in a Gay Pride Parade (just in order to get to the other side of it, but we all enjoyed the moment), witnessed someone being hauled out of one of the canals and played in a lovely central park.  In Wales I spent a week WOOFing on a horse farm, went riding without falling off around the most beautiful Welsh hills.  In Swansea I nestled downtown in my cousin’s “better homes and garden” row house that she just renovated, where we ate and drank like queens when not roaming the high cliffs in southern Wales.  In County Cork Ireland, I discovered many of my Father’s cousins, many of whom were beef and dairy farmers, I kissed the Blarney Stone (and now all the more gifted with the gab!) and drove along almost the entire coast of Cork through to Kerry and bits of Galway.  Ireland boasted it’s record coldest summer – a cold and grey adventure on those wild coast cliffs. Beyond the European borders I have to add one last visited cousin, Farmer Peter Brown and his lovely partner, Lynn  in Glen Forbes, Australia.  Our landing point where we geared up for the road, ate and drank way too much and did a few farm and gardening chores.

County Cork, first stop:  Blarney Castle to fill myself with more Blarney!


See full of Blarney!  Kissing the stone was upside down, dropped over the castle ledge  at 50 feet high!

    
Nellie Crowley and Con Hurley, my Dad’s first cousins and childhood mates.  I stayed with Nell, who loved me like a long last grand daughter.  I miss her everyday.

Then there is my new family – Matt’s Mom, Jean in Penzance, Cornwall.  I spent six weeks with her waiting for Matt.  Every day was an adventure, leaping out the door for morning coffee at the local art gallery with her sweet artist friends, or racing for the bus to St. Ives and hang out with Matt’s cousins on the beach during their annual mecca to the seaside.

A rainy detour to Tintagel, King Aurther’s Castle with Jean, Matt’s Mom.

The Lambert/Hodge Clan – St.Ives Beach Lifers!


Tim, Matt’s brother came to celebrate Jean’s 80th Birthday and hang at the beach.


Brothers sharing a tale and a brew in St. Ives.

Salisbury was my home base with return visits to stay with Mom, Uncle Simon and Aunt Tomasina.  Salisbury was a central exploration location to get around to see fabulous historic sites of the development of England – Stonehenge (see my blog on that Solstice adventure), Old Sarum, Salisbury Cathedral, Winchester Cathedral and Shaftsbury to name a few.

Dear Sister Gelly at Shaftbury, our Grandparent’s old home town.


Mom’s new birthday scooter!  There is no slowing her down!


My brother Andrew and Uncle Simon at just one of his many volunteer jobs, the War Museum at Salisbury Cathedral.

This was a very successful mission.  And i was so pleased to have made these connections.  I was amazed at the common thread we all shared in being family.  Our roots were connected, our stories were linked, our history was generally known.  And all were perfectly wonderful people, who I was delighted in being related to.  I have a really lovely family!  In the end of my travels in the UK and Ireland, I was so happy to have had the opportunity of time, being alone to indulge in roaming about to knock on stranger’s doors and to participate just briefly in their lives.  I hope it will not take another 47 years for me to return and visit them again.  I somehow know it will not.

Here are my relatives and the places I stayed when visiting their homes.

Cousin Terri and Aunt Jean in Birmingham with young Michael and Daniel.

Cousin Mary Cox, an up and coming Equestrian in Wales.

With her Dad, Alex Cox, a well known accomplished equestrian and teacher.  His four eldest children are in hot demand for medieval movies as horse stunt men and woman!

Lou Cox, over seeing the fierier work and gardener/cook extrodinaire!

In Swansea, Cousin Nicky Brown, a true soul sister and Earth Woman.

  
Me at my Grandparents old door in Birmingham.  Me and Nicky and Ann (from Vancouver) at Dylan Thomas’ old door in Swansea.

Cousin Maureen and Jeremy O’Donovan hosted and toured me in grand style in Cork City, Kinsale and around the Ring of Kerry .  Maureen and I  did time in the old Cork Gaul, but busted out as fugitives claiming our innocence!


Maureen and her sister and niece.  What was to be a cup of tea was a full on spread!

Dad’s first cousins: Nellie (centre) and sisters Birdie, Jean, Nora,  and Annie.  In the middle of no where on my first day in Sana Crane, this woman (Annie) came out to the road calling, “Are you a Coakley?”  The next thing I knew I was being hugged and invited for tea, which really means drinks and a big meal to meet her sisters and family.  They were all Coakley’s and adored their memories of my Dad.  Such lovely ladies.  

O Sweet Colleens!  My darling cousins who live with Nellie and her son John-Noel and who I had the most fun with teaching yoga, deep relaxation breathing, walks, bike rides and jumping on the trampoline!  Left to right, Ellie, Sarah, Mother Emer, Aeofe and Emma. Such Irish beauties!


In the Sheep’s Head, Cousins Mara, and Deidre and Alex.  They took me out along the Goat’s Path and Air India Memorial (coasts in West Cork) and lunch in the Sheeps Head..

The young lad unloading shellfish is my 2nd cousin, Daniel (Annie’s son) who i met by chance wandering alone in Kinsale.


In Shanacrane at my cousin Donnel and Ann’s dairy farm.  Donnell want to know if i wanted to go inside the fence with the cows!  Imagine!


Donnel and Ann, gentle farmers.  Donnell and my Dad have very fond memories of each other growing up on the farm as boys.

Cousin Peter on the lower acres, where the government has cut a swath 200 kilometres across the land to install a massive water pipe for a desalination project to water the people of Melbourne.  The farmers are not amused. 

  
Meet Rocky, in his PJs and house coat.  We have named our truck after him.  His parents, Peter and Lynn under an inverted tree stump with Matt.

What a lovely family i have!