On October 29th 1985 my first daughter was born into my arms, literally. Just me and her mother were present for that moment. It was not planned that way and this wonderfully unscheduled moment served as a profound learning for the rest of my days until this one.
Life does not have you in mind, and if you can inhabit that magical thought fully, you can be present and immersed in life.
So, this year my daughter turned 40, choosing to celebrate the specific moment with her two siblings in Amsterdam.
My visit to the wild west of Wales came some weeks later. We ate wonderful food, walked in the stormy wet weather, watched both Wicked movies and talked. Always we talk.
Of all things, I am truly blessed to have the kind of relationship I have with my daughter. ( And with her siblings.) We do deep. Always.
Her current residence is on the shores of Borth. A wild place. My mornings there were filled with windows onto the ocean, the smell of salt air, the sounds of crashing waves, the art of driftwood and pebbles and of course rainbows.
So, to walk along the rocks of Borth beach, or the long sands of Aberystwyth, 40 years on, was to encounter a memory bank full of reverberations. I was here as a fledgling university student in 1981. Hair down past my shoulders and a rebellious outlook on the world, I lasted all of 3 months before the world took me along another road for a few years. A story to tell another day. Landing back in ‘Aber’ after a hitchhiking sojourn in France in 1984 was the beginning of the end of those times. I met my daughter’s future mother. My daughter was born in Cornwall in October 1985.
Life had its way with me once more.
There are more words to share about my relationship with my daughter but this does not seem the right place or the right moment. We have often talked about ways to find a Daughter/Father conversation that brings my writing and her writing/directing together. Time will tell if we make that a thing.
For now, just enjoy the photos of this beautiful part of the world, and imagine us two walking though this landscape together, holding all that we have shared in our lives with a deep vulnerability and open hearts, as only a father and daughter might.
Of course a visit to the seaside would not be complete without an arcade stop.
Achill
im chaonaí uaigneach nach mór go bhfeicim an lá.
I sit on a stone after lunch and consider the glow
Of the sun through mist, a pearl bulb containèdly fierce;
A rain-shower darkens the schist for a minute or so
Then it drifts away and the sloe-black patches disperse.
Croagh Patrick towers like Naxos over the water
And I think of my daughter at work on her difficult art
And wish she were with me now between thrush and plover,
Wild thyme and sea-thrift, to lift the weight from my heart.
An excerpt from Achill, Selected Poems, published by Viking/Gallery, 1991. Copyright © 1991 by Derek Mahon.
Glad to hear you had such an enjoyable, fulfilling time with your daughter. Some lovely views from the coast, particularly that beautiful rainbow.