"To the Unexpressed Love": a student reflects on love, loss, and his semester in Dublin
Josh Vo, a junior from Wichita, Kansas, studied abroad in the Fall of 2023 at Trinity College Dublin. Vo is a double major in psychology and film. He describes himself as "a student, an aspiring filmmaker, and a curious soul." Midway through his semester abroad, Vo took time to reflect on the complex emotions carrying him through his experience thus far. He was struck by lessons over an impactful weekend in Northern Ireland, an experiential learning field trip that is a part of the Dublin study abroad program's "Introduction to Ireland" history class, taught by Professor Kevin Whelan, director of the University of Notre Dame in Dublin.
I have a lot to be grateful for in my life. I am on one of those kicks right now, so forgive me if my words seem indulgent. It is all I have been able to think about lately. I feel elated to say that, and I recognize that the ability to feel this sense of gratitude is, in and of itself, a grace. And yet, I would be lying if I said I did not feel a little uncomfortable, grappling with these emotions.
I notice how that sounds: a boy in his twenties, spending his semester abroad in Dublin, and almost complaining about being too happy. The nerve. I would roll my eyes, too, but that is not what I mean. I promise.
This feeling started as I began to reflect on our program’s field trip to Northern Ireland.
It was October 14th, roughly week eight of seventeen weeks abroad. The summit of our semester in Dublin. We traveled to Belfast for the weekend to learn about The Troubles—a period of sectarian conflict in Northern Ireland between Republican and Loyalist communities. To put it very simply, it was a time of tragic loss in very recent history, younger than my two older sisters.
In Belfast we met a man, whose name I will keep with me, who lived through The Troubles and was gracious enough to tell us about the family he had lost during that period. To love this man was to hear his stories, and to hear his stories was to respect his family.
A classmate later pointed out to me that the man held tears in his eyes as he spoke. Every time he shares this part of his life, he has to relive it.
Grief is all of the unexpressed love that we do not get the chance to say aloud.
The actor Andrew Garfield shared a philosophy of grief that has stuck with me for the past two years. After he lost his mother to cancer, he said that grief is all of the unexpressed love that we do not get the chance to say aloud. Every tear we shed is another “I love you” said to those whom we cannot tell in person. Garfield said, “I hope that grief stays with me." Though it hurts, I have to agree.
With tears in his eyes, the man in Belfast revisited this pain to share his love for his family with us. Through the sharing of their memory, he reminded all of us to hold our own loved ones close, and so I hope he knows the pain was not for nothing.
When we hear of death, and mortality is invited back into our minds, we remember the sacredness of time, and our bodies are flooded with gratitude for the people in our lives. With thanks to this weekend in Northern Ireland, and to the generosity of the man we met, every moment of my life since has been marked with a newfound appreciation for the guardian angels in my life who I am lucky to call my friends and family.
I am grateful for my friends, those who visited me from London shortly after. We were gifted with an almost too perfect weekend, sharing spice bags in St. Stephen’s Green and baking cookies after a stroll on the famous cliff walk in Howth. After they left, I cried on my kitchen floor thinking about how much they have helped me throughout my life. Then I think of that field trip, and I remember to treasure this grief. I know I will see them again, and though the pain is present, I am reminded that if I keep it with me, I am blessed to be able to indulge in this unexpressed love.
I am grateful for my family, and the fact that two years ago my mom was in chemotherapy and could barely walk from her bed to the living room. Now, she is visiting me in Dublin, flaunting her new haircut to my sister in a sweater shop as they wait for me to finish writing this and join them for lunch. In a couple of days, I will get them a cab to leave the city, and we will hug and say goodbye. And maybe that will feel painful for a while, but again, if I can keep that with me, if I can carry that memory, then I know I am lucky to indulge in this unexpressed love.
Now, I only have another few weeks here, so of course, I need to mention one more thing.
I am grateful for everyone that I have met on the Dublin program, especially as it is nearing the end. Though I have known some of them for less than three months, the sacredness of our bond is strong. I can feel it when we eat snacks and watch horror movies at UCD. I can feel it when we miss the bus together and have to reroute ourselves to get to the city. I can feel it when we win best group costume for our Wizard of Oz homage on Halloween. And I know I will feel it at Dublin Airport on December 17th.
I am not one to predict the future, but maybe when I pass through the airport gates, I will think about the semester behind us, and I might shed some tears. I may even wonder what lies ahead of us, but that is not for me to say. While I know I will see everyone again, if I can stay in this moment and hold it close to me, maybe they can stay with me forever.
It would be an honor to indulge in all of this unexpressed love.