Seeking a fortune teller and meeting the White Witch

Our American in Ireland gets a glimpse of her future

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Looking into the future can be daunting

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She matter-of-factly tells me that I will “marry a man as Irish as the green grass outside.” Then she leans in, rather intimidatingly, and asks, “Do you understand?”

“Yes m’am. Irish. Got it.” I respond.

“And would you like to know his name?”

“Um... you can do that?”

“I’ll tell you. It’s Patrick. He’ll be very handsome with lovely black hair and brown eyes. Do you like brown eyes?”

“Uh, sure.” I try to picture my future husband, and evaluate his imaginary brown eyes. The ones I’ve invented seem pretty nice.

Nevermind.

“What about my career path? You know, job-wise, do you see anything on the horizon for me?”

“Yes, you’ll be fine. Be patient. Do you want to know how many kids you have?”

“Well, not really.”

I take out a magazine with a photo of the man whose life and death I have been piecing together for a documentary.

I’m surprised to see that she immediately knows what kind of a person he was (funny, hardworking), she knows how he was killed(multiple stab wounds), and she identifies specifics that only someone who had read his autopsy report would know.

So, should I travel to a potentially volatile location to investigate what happened to him?

A resounding yes!

Not only does she say I will find out what happened to him, and that my trip abroad will be a safe one, but most importantly, she says, “You will make a lot of people very happy with what you find out.”

Excellent news! Worth the hefty price of her time.

On to witch number two!

Day 2: Still high from our Croom-readings, we venture 2 ½ hours to visit the White Witch of Cobh. This time, we each receive private palm readings at a table in her house. She’s a young woman who immediately gives off one of those spooky auras – but that could be because she looks ever the part of a witch with exceedingly long black hair and a loose, floor-length black dress.

She tells each of us privately that either we or our children will be famous, we’ll all have children in the military(which, for our family of pacifists and artists, is highly unlikely), we’ll all soon live in mansions(also unlikely for a documentary filmmaker, a musician, and a full-time student), and that we’ll all live happy, successful lives until we pass away quietly in our late eighties.

She tells me I’ll marry a man with a C or an O or an M name, or maybe a someone with a bad leg.

What about my brown-eyed Pat? I was growing fond of him! Choosing between imagined future husbands is more difficult than finding a partner in real life.

She’s not sure who it’ll be, but I definitely won’t marry him until I’m at least 27. I’ll have 5 kids, but if I only have two or three, the others will come to me as grandchildren. She doesn’t mention my future career prospects. Nothing at all? Just kids? In that case I better become an awesome mom. Maybe I should stop by the baby book section next time I’m at Eason’s...

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