Some of my ancestors came from Ireland. As we pulled out of the Dublin port today I realized that my ancestors had probably pulled out of the same port on their way to New York by ship. And now I am tracing that same route 150 years later (approximately, I’m a little fuzzy on the dates). It is interesting to think of the way things and people and opportunities have changed since then. They were poor, fleeing a land full of poverty, hunger and often persecution. They fled to a land that was supposed to hold promise, but in the short term probably didn’t offer them much. They would have been carrying all of their belongings in the world with them. They would have said good-bye to family and friends they would never see again. I am making the same journey for fun, in luxury. They were probably excited but also scared and uncertain of their futures, and while I am at times uncertain I am never scared. I wonder if they could have ever pictured what would come, in their own lives as well as in the future. I stare out at the waves and sometimes think that their ghosts are still there prowling the waves, watching.