Where to begin, where to begin…9 months – the amount of time it takes to have a baby, three quarters of a year – 39 weeks, 274 days, 6,570 hours, 394,200 minutes, and way too many seconds to count. Nine months had passed since I had been in the wonderful presence of Dooney.
Let me try to explain…
Dooney! There is a certain bit o’ wit and Irish charm along with a beautiful blend of energy, charisma, and spunk that makes up the family of Dooney. I come from that family, and nine months of being away from the Dooney’s turns into deprivation.
So, it was the beginning of month eight. M squad had finally made the trek to Europe where wifi was once again intact, and I finally got to have a conversation with momma Dooney. And to my surprise, I found out that there was a Dooney adventure happening in Europe for the next two weeks. In fact, she was currently on a layover headed this way! I couldn’t believe it. Bummed that I hadn’t known sooner, I grumbled, “I could’ve seen you guys!” Swapping emotions, I exclaimed, “Wait, maybe I can come see you!” After finding out the days they would be in Switzerland, I got to work…
Email after email after email, and the endless strings came together. I received the go ahead from Adventures to join them for a couple of days! It felt as though God had planned this trip out from the beginning with all the little things that had to come together to make it happen, and how smoothly they all did. A recipe for pure joy was all I could see written on my plane ticket…
Ten days later, I was off on my Dooney escapade! I made my way to Budapest, dropped off my big pack at the train station, and made my way to the airport, for a quick flight to Geneva. I hopped on a train to Thun with all the feels starting to come to the surface. My heart was so full, and I wasn’t even with them yet. My mom had messaged me that morning informing me that she alone knew I was coming. I was so overfilled with joy, moisture came to my eyes, as I thought again and again about being with mom and dad again. Nine months…and I would be hugging my papi within the hour! I arrived at their hotel right around 10pm. I walked on in, and could hear cheery voices in seconds. I knew full well that could only be my family. I made my way down some stairs, and out to a balcony, where the merry sounds were coming from. And there they were!
My mom, sitting at the end of the table with her back to the lake, saw me first. Her face turned to pure delight. Uncle Mike, my godfather, saw her expression, and looked up. As he realized who it was, his expression came to match that of my mom. And then my dad! <3 He had caught on to the shift in the atmosphere – merriment to awe. “Dooney’s!!!!!!” I exclaimed aloud as my heart jumped for joy – overfilled in seconds. He looked up, expressionless as he took in that it was in fact his long lost daughter in 3D, real life form grinning back at him. By that time, I had reached their end of the table, and was hugging my mom. Dad got his wits about him, and with the voice of a loving father in pure amazement said my name as though seeing a long lost child, “Meagan!” He hopped up, and I squeezed the heck out of my pops. I just stood there hugging him as my great Uncle Kevin caught up to speed. They pulled up a chair, and sat me down, regaling me with the stories from their trip down the Rhine River with grandma and grandpa, who had already retired for the night. The high energy, expressive joy, and Dooney merriment was thick in the air – the laughter couldn’t seem to die down. They had all enjoyed a drink or two at this point, and the lax vibe of peace and love came over me in the presence of family. I couldn’t stop laughing as stories of Uncle Kevin causing trouble on the trip came tumbling out. I still can’t believe him! But then again, it’s Uncle Kevin. Uncle Mike started reenacting his grand new friends, the German bartenders – Dormitoor and Dollyboor , accent and all. I thought they were making half of it up, but even they aren’t that creative. I couldn’t get enough. The stories rolled out, and I came to find out that these same bartenders caught Kevin redhanded, who claimed he doesn’t drink alcohol so as to save himself a few pennies. And there he was on tape, drinking not just any alcohol on the cruise, but the finest brandy on the entire boat. Oh Kevin! And then there were the stories of Uncle Mike pulling out the Mike Dooney dance moves that caught all the ladies’ attention. I giggled away as an Irish coffee was set in front of me – my favorite beverage and a drink I’d been craving for months (ever since wintertime when my mind couldn’t stop wandering to the mountains and all that powder.) After such a long day of travel and stress, it hit the spot! I took a sip as I drank in this moment that was already beyond special to me. Aaah, ‘tis a blessing and joy each and every day of my life to be a member of the Clan Dooney – something I will always cherish and love. Thank you fam for being the wonderful crew of life-giving, joyful, and loving people I’ve been blessed to be a part of. I can’t wait to see you all, and hug each and every one of you!
All My Love,
Meagan
Uncle Mike, Me, Grandpa, Mom, & Dad hiking up a cliff to some caves where St. Beatus, a Catholic monk, once lived in Hilterfingen, Switzerland.
All of us having dinner with our English friends who arrived on my last day with the fam for another surprise!
Ma, pa, and me in Annecy <3
