Ireland, 1891 (7)

Hey, 2nd of October 1891

It’s been quite a while… and in the last three days, a lot has happened. I’m still not really ready to talk about it with anyone, so I’ll just tell you. At least that way I’ll be able to take breaks whist telling you. I don’t think I could handle writing it all down in one sitting. So, Sean died. My dear little brother died. He passed away peacefully in the night after the landlords invaded our home. The illness had grown too severe and he couldn’t handle it anymore. He was buried the same day, behind our local church. We couldn’t even afford a gravestone or a cross for him… I feel so bad, Sean deserved better. And as if that wasn’t bad enough – Yes, there’s more – in the midst of all this uproar we almost didn’t notice but Hugh is gone as well. I don’t mean that he’s dead too, God no, but he left us to travel to America. He only left behind a small note. So, you see, it was a hard week, especially for mother, losing two sons all at once. I honestly don’t know how we are going to go on. I pray every day but God doesn’t seem to listen anymore. I’m just tired of working this much every day and still not being able to save the ones I care about. I have to do something, change something. Dear Diary, today after Sunday church I cleaned out the second bedroom because, remember, we are renting it out. Patrick helped me and I tried to get his thoughts away from the death of his twin by keeping him busy with “important” tasks. Meanwhile, I’ve found something really interesting, in an old box in the corner of the room. It was a collection of old newspaper articles and flyers that must have been my dad’s. But not just any articles, articles about America, look! Isn’t that crazy how cheap living must be over there? Unimaginable in Ireland, that there would be no landlords coming to collect their share all the time. But I do wonder why he never told us about his box. This is the first time I really considered moving to America. I mean on the one hand, I want to do right by my father who did nothing but love and work for his entire life, and I also want to see Hugh again, but on the other hand, I have never been to another country, let alone another continent! How would I do it? How could we afford to travel there safely? How would life be there? But most importantly: How could we ever leave our entire life behind?

Dear Diary, 12th of October, 1891

You won’t believe it, we heard from Hugh again! He sent us a postcard from America! Do you see that, my diary? He made it! My brother made it to America! I’ll have to go tell mother and my siblings, those are huge news! Oh no, wait, I hear the landlords’ horses again outside our house. This going to be bad. 

Dear Diary, 14th of October, 1891

something horrible has happened. Right after I finished the last entry, the landlords came by our house again, knocked down the door and demanded their payment to be delivered right now. They screamed so loud that little Comac awoke from his nap and joined them in screaming. Mother tried to explain in a scared tone that we were sadly not able to pay AGAIN but these men were not to be reasoned with. When they left our house again, we took a deep breath, thinking we got away with it, but I’ve never been so wrong in my life.