Tilly2Tone Says
rydw i'n hoffi coffi

I have the feeling of hiraeth every day. It's a word every Welsh person will understand if they have ever left Wales with little hope of returning. There is no literal translation. So here is my interpretation and what it means to me.

Hiraeth is an intimate and personal grief of something that is lost, or maybe never was.

It cannot be shared, or reconciled, or worst of all found.

It is a desperate longing for home.

It is a feeling of loss, even grief for somewhere that is long gone.

It is a regret that is hard to accept and impossible to resolve.

It is accepting my place is there, yet I am not.

It is watching the clock to see if the land is awake.

It is hearing the roar of the rugby crowd through my tv.

i was here

It is staring at the bottom of my empty tea mug wishing it had been a dwr cymru cuppa.

It is squinting at the blue cloudless sky through designer sunnies wanting nothing more than mist and drizzle and a miserable forecast.

It is wanting to see the black mountains from my kitchen window as I used to as a kid washing up my ice cream bowl.

It is remembering my long gone black and white springer spaniel venturing out into the frosty morning to have a wee.

It is picking blackberries from roadside bushes on my way home from school.

It is driving through country lanes swearing at tractors and English holiday makers towing their caravans.

It is shopping in town for comics and records and pie and chips and pick n mix.

It is knowing my family are all around the Sunday dinner table while I am tucking my kids into bed.

It is fighting back tears when the anthem is sung.

It is feeling hypocritical while writing this.

It is the land of my father's.

and here too Leek o x o {now go and listen to something lovely: treorchy male voice choir myfanwy}