English
Pauline Killion
3.3K posts
Presenter @lawlor_aine asks @paulmurphy_TD what kind of welcome Donald Trump should receive if he pays Ireland a visit in September.
#RTETWIP repeats at 11pm tonight on @RTEOne
English
English
@georgemcdonagh Put him in the Paddy Power ad with Colm Meaney and the gang
English
Nico De Boinville has some cheek insulting our country like that
Signs By be doesn’t come over here much
Plus he ain’t such a good jockey
English
Who can honestly say they've had the same phone number for the last five years?
English
My chopping motion is reasonably OK, but I’m not great at spreading, or at side-to-side hand movement in general. Everything at the moment is about making things easier for me, so this rechargeable handheld vacuum, again from the centre aisle in Lidl, is a godsend for crumbs!
English
UNBELIEVABLE - America has lost four service members and we are spending billions of dollars to fight a foreign war.
Trump refuses to take any questions from the press and instead talks about his new ballroom and how he’s saving money on curtains.
We are the laughingstock of the world.
English
Donald Trump‘s health clearly isn’t well.
It’s scary that this is the guy leading us into war. Any thoughts?
English
Trump is more than 40 minutes late and VA Secretary Doug Collins is staring at the ceiling
English
Shane Lowry with a Sunday lead on the PGA Tour is almost automatic heartbreak. The talent says superstar. The closing says otherwise.
English
Massive chance for Shane to get first individual win in 4 years & first PGA Tour win in 7 ☘️
Live on Sky now 🎥
English
@bfchild66 Yes we have postcodes in Meath its called Eircode.
English
Haa haaa , I hear you !
My brother lives in Meath and when sending xmas and birthday cards I'm always amazed that theres no post code and writing only his name, county and town they always arrive
Fr Benedict Andersen@benquivenit
Having lived in Ireland, I can affirm that this letter would probably reach its destination.
English
Be honest 🤔
Can you taste a difference between Coke & Pepsi?🥤
English
If you grew up in a “vegetables at every meal” household….what did you eat with spaghetti?
English
5 DAYS
by Michael Whelan
For five days, our house will hold more love than sorrow.
My sister.
Two girls.
Two nieces.
Five days of footsteps down the hallway. Five days of coffee cups multiplying on the counter. Five days of hands reaching — not to fix the unfixable — but to steady what trembles.
Seven of us will gather on that bed around Rebecca.
Seven hearts pressed close to one that is learning how to let go.
She fades in and out, drifting somewhere between this room and a horizon I cannot see. And then — like a small miracle — she returns. A sentence. A story. A flicker of that mischievous sparkle. We lean in, afraid to blink. The girls laugh through tears. My nieces stroke her arm. My sister squeezes her hand like she’s anchoring her to earth.
For a few sacred seconds, she is fully here.
And in those seconds, we all are too.
I had forgotten the power of family. Forgotten what it feels like when the weight you’ve been carrying alone is quietly redistributed — when someone else does the dishes without being asked, folds laundry like it matters, takes the trash out without ceremony. Small acts. Holy acts.
Hospice still plays with my mind. Their gentle voices, their careful words. “Comfort.” “Preparation.” “Transition.” They don’t say goodbye — but it lingers in the air like unshed rain. It confirms what my heart already knows: my princess, my great love, is slowly preparing for another journey.
One without me.
In the quiet moments — after the laughter dims and everyone settles into borrowed pillows and makeshift beds — that thought shakes me. My body trembles with it. I cannot imagine the silence that will follow her absence. I cannot imagine a morning without reaching for her.
But for five days, she will not be surrounded by silence.
For five days, love will crowd that bed.
For five days, the stories of our life will rise and fall around her like a tide — stories she helped write, stories only family remembers the way they truly happened.
For five days, I will not carry this alone.
And maybe that is what grace looks like — not the stopping of the inevitable, but the softening of it. Not the erasing of heartbreak, but the sharing of it.
Seven people on a bed.
One fading queen.
A husband trying to memorize every breath.
Five days.
Five sacred, unbearable, beautiful days.
English
