Page 7 of Five Goodbyes

As we stroll through the campus, a sense of awe washes over me. This is a place that’s been around for centuries, where countless generations of students have learned and grown up. I can’t help but wonder about the people who have walked these same paths before me, who have sat in the classrooms and studied the same subjects I did back home.

My internal thoughts are interrupted as we come upon the famous Book of Kells exhibit. I’ve heard so much about this ancient manuscript, and I’m eager to see it for myself.

As we approach the display, I feel a sense of respect wash over me. The book is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before — the intricacy of the designs, the vibrant colors, the attention to detail. It’s hard to believe that something so old and fragile has survived for so long.

As I study it through the display, I can’t help but feel a deep sense of esteem for the people who created this masterpiece. It’s a reminder that even in the midst of turmoil and hardship, humans have always found ways to create meaning.

For a brief moment, I’m able to forget about the accident and the pain that followed it. Instead, I’m able to immerse myself in the beauty of this college and find solace in the history and traditions of a place so far from home. While the Book of Kells takes me to another time it’s the library that shocks me.

“Is this real?” I ask.

“Might be a dream,” Jasmine whispers.

The warm glow of the old wood, the row after row of gothic steel handrails, stairs leading up to another level, lined with almost four and a half million books, is overwhelmingly awesome.

“It feels like we’re in a movie,” I say as we walk further into the expansive library.

“A fairytale. Can we just stand here for a minute?” Jasmine asks.

“We can stand here for as long as our legs will hold us,” I say as I wrap my arm around her. We aren’t in a hurry, and we end up walking through the library for just over an hour. We might have to come back to this place and spend a week or even a month. One day isn’t enough time. There’s so much more in this world than our little slice of paradise.

I think there’d be so much less division worldwide if everyone got out of their own bubble more often. What an evolution all of us humans have had in the centuries we’ve inhabited this incredible land.

As we leave Trinity College, I feel a sense of gratefulness. I’m grateful for the opportunity to experience such a beautiful and historic place, and to be able to share it with the person I love most in this world. But most of all, I’m grateful for the reminder that there’s beauty and meaning in the world, even in the midst of hardship and pain.

“Okay. That was quite possibly the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen,” I say as we walk away from the college.

“Really?” Jasmine asks, her tone playful.

“Yep, really. I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as those books. I may never think of anything else as long as I live.”

“See where that gets you, Mr. Sparks,” Jasmine threatens.

I laugh as Jazzy gently punches me in the ribs. My laughter grows louder. She rolls her eyes but chuckles with me.

We next hit the Guinness brewery for a tour. I’ve never been much of a beer drinker and haven’t had a palate for the dark beers like Guinness has, but I’m always willing to live by the old adage:when in Rome.

“Do you have any tips on where we can spend time in a local pub when we leave here?” Jasmine asks the guide.

I don’t mind that he’s ogling Jasmine, since she’s sexy as hell, and her inviting personality makes it easy to want to get close to her. In the past I’ve never been jealous because I’ve had the thought that if a chick wants to leave, there are plenty of more fish in the sea. Now I see a guy trying to charm the woman I’m with and I’m not jealous because I know what it means for her to say she loves me, and I’m fortunate enough to be her man. Now, don’t get me wrong, there’s a line that if a man crosses, he’s going to feel my wrath.

“Local pub? Yeah, there’s a place not far from here the locals go to. It’s called O’Malley’s Office. It can get a little tough on newcomers at places like that. Maybe I can show you myself, and introduce you to some people,” the guide says, his hopeful eyes full of anticipation.

“That would be so sweet of you. My boyfriend and I would love that!” Jasmine exclaims as she waves me over to her.

By the time the tour ends our guide remembers he has other plans and can’t accompany us to the pub. His bummed expression that Jasmine isn’t single amuses me. I’d be bummed as well. She’s a catch that anyone would be glad to land. She’s so much more than that to me though.

“Do you want to eat first or go directly to the pub and try our luck with the local bar food?” I ask Jasmine as we walk out. Somehow, I’ve gotten tasked with carrying the bag of souvenirs Jasmine’s already bought . . . and I don’t mind. There’s not much I won’t do for her.

“Food. Need food. I thought those beers would be heavy and would fill me. I want to have a good time at the pub, not being hangry and biting off your arm,” Jasmine says.

“Better my arm than something else.”

“True. You can take it,” she tells me before heading back to our room to drop off our bags. We grab a quick plate at the hotel, then quicky head back out to the streets, not wanting to miss a moment of our time in this amazing place.

We make our way down a small alleyway and find our treasure. We head inside, eager to experience the local culture. Jasmine veers off to use the bathroom and I’m greeted by a warm glow from a fireplace and the sound of lively chatter. I make my way to the bar and order a pint of Guinness, eager to soak up the local atmosphere. As I take a sip of the dark, rich beer, I notice a group of locals gathered in the corner, singing and playing traditional Irish tunes on their instruments. I can’t help but tap my foot to the rhythm, and before I know it, I’m swept up in the music.

Suddenly, I feel a tap on my shoulder, and turn to see Jasmine standing beside me with a big smile on her lips. “Hey there, stranger,” she says, her faux Irish accent making me melt. “What brings you to this lovely pub?”

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