Philadelphia - a tribute

Twelve years ago, I flew to Philadelphia to meet some dear friends. I didn’t know what most of them looked like, nor they me. But we had laughed (so much!) and cried together, talked about life, swapped recipes, studied Gaelic, and I knew I would recognize them on the inside.

Back then I was a single mom. Since I didn’t want to leave my children with a babysitter much, but dearly needed adults to talk to from time to time – outside the politics of work, that is - I joined a chatroom peopled by others of Irish descent or affinity, in search of conversation. What I found was a close-knit group of friends. There was the nurse in Maine, the florist in Pennsylvania, the retired professor in Québec City, Herself (and stories of Himself), a Swede with an Irish echo. There were siblings and cousins and strangers and the one thing that bound us all together was our little chat room online.

That weekend in Philadelphia in the summer of ’99 we came together, those who could, for some in-person time.

I told Betsy about a guy I’d recently met; I knew in my gut that he was something special. Linda and Jeff struck up a friendship. We made the rounds of a few pubs guided by a local member of our room. And two days later we all hugged and said goodbye.

Last night, the airline put me up at a hotel in Philadelphia after a missed connection. It’s the first time I’ve been back to Philly since that weekend in 1999. The chat room system closed down a few months later. I married my special guy and had five wonderful years with him before he died. Linda and Jeff got married and have a granddaughter. Betsy’s teenagers are now wonderful adults. We still hear stories of Himself, and Rebekah found her echo in the professor from Québec City.

So here’s to you, Stargazer, Webby, Angharod, LadyB, Petey, Liam Seamroige, and the rest. Forgive me if I misspell your old names. I’ve known you a long time now by your “proper” ones, but the fact that you’re still a special part of my life makes me want to pull out those old screen names and dust them off again.

Slainte! And please pass the chardonnay.