We have a lot to put right before we really expect our loved ones home
'LA's fine, the sun shines most of the time and the feelin' is laid back. Palm trees grow and rents are low, but you know I keep thinking about making my way back. Well I'm New York City born and raised but nowadays I'm lost between two shores. LA's fine, but it ain't home. New York's home but it ain't mine no more . . . I am, I Said', sang Neil Diamond.
In the same week we learnt two million souls were toiling away in the Irish workforce and immigration has surpassed emigration for the first time since the crash, it was hard not to think of those still overseas or of what those who return will have to contend with.
The sun shines most of the time in Perth, Western Australia, and there are palm trees and even parrots too. Compared with Dublin, rents are low. My eldest daughter is Dublin-city born and raised and she knows only too well what it's like to be lost between two shores. And she is not the only one. Five years after leaving Ireland, my daughter and her then boyfriend, now fiancé, have created a life for themselves in the world's most isolated city. They have jobs they enjoy, a house near the beach (so they can catch a quick swim after work), a cat (with a self-harming problem) and have recently become permanent residents of Australia. All so very normal and so very settled.