When things go wrong, they really go wrong. The first half of 2018 was amazing, packed with lots of lovely moments as we counted down to Sarah Jane’s wedding in May.

The lead up to the wedding was filled with happy memories, laughter, and terrific nights out. We couldn’t have been happier. The wedding in Castlemartyr was stunning. I’ll never forget it.

When Daire got engaged some time later we were absolutely thrilled. Even better, we planned a six-day trip to New York. Tickets were booked for the US Open Mens Final, lots of meals out, theatre, etc. and that’s when everything unravelled.

The day after landing in New York, while sitting down to our breakfast, I got a call to say mum had died unexpectedly. Once I absorbed that there was no option but to abandon New York that day, which we did.

After a few hectic months we decided to book another trip, this time a week away in Lanzarote. We needed a holiday after what we had been through, so the lure of a lazy sun-drenched holiday seemed a great idea.

Flights booked, accommodation sorted, we looked forward to the November takeoff.

That’s when Lady Luck decided to intervene. Trish ruptured a disc in her back, ended up in hospital, and is still recuperating. Bang went holiday number 2. Still, both circumstances were outside our control.

In the meantime, I had booked another trip, this time to Wroclaw in Poland. Trish had used up her holidays, but urged me to go with a group from my home town. I was uncertain about going, especially after her back injury, and it was only in the last few weeks, with Trish somewhat recovered, that I was finally persuaded to go.

You’d think with all that bad luck something would finally go right for me. Hah! I packed my bag the night before, made sure my passport was in my pocket, cash in my wallet. I was ready.

We got to Cork Airport and had time to relax. I was really looking forward to a few days away, checking out the Christmas Market, the cafes and restaurants, not to mention t(e shops. I had checked in the night before for my Ryanair flight, and just as we were about to board the flight I made sure my phone was displaying the boarding pass, and idly opened the passport.

That’s when I realised it was Trish’s, not my passport. The realisation that I had somehow picked up the wrong passport was bad enough, but I couldn’t understand how I had never checked it before.

I knew instantly I couldn’t board to flight, as as the others had priority booking, only one was still left in the queue so I barely had time to tell her what had happened. Any thought of calling Trish so she could rush the right passport up to me was out of the question as there was too little time left.

The plane was barely in the air before I got home. To say I was deflated is putting it mildly. Such a run of bad luck was frustrating and the year isn’t over yet.

Our kids booked us a weekend hotel break to make up for the disasters, so if you see us around be nice. We’re feeling a bit delicate.

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