Bhí gaoth nimhneach ag séideadh thar Aillte an Mhothair.

A bitter wind was blowing over the Cliffs of Moher.

Bhí na duilleoga ag titim ó na crainn i ngach áit thart timpeall.

Leaves were falling from the trees everywhere around.

Bhraith Siobhán an fhuacht ag dul trína cóta mór, ach níor bhac sí leis.

Siobhán felt the cold penetrating through her large coat, but she didn't mind.

Bhí sí ag tógáil anála ón radharc áilleacht ós a comhair.

She was taking in the breathtaking scenery before her.

Ach bhí rud éigin eile á cothú aici.

Yet, she was nurturing something else.

Thar an ghéire a bhí uirthi, bhí sí ag smaoineamh ar an bhfocal mistéireach a tháinig chun solais nuair a bhí sí ag cuartú tríd na seanpháipéir a d'fhág a hathair.

Despite the sharpness she felt, she was pondering the mysterious word that emerged when she was searching through the old papers left by her father.

Bhí cófra lán le litreacha agus doiciméid i seomra a dheasc, agus i measc an ábhair go léir, fuair sí litir le hainm nach raibh ar eolas aici: Seán Ó Ceallaigh.

There was a chest full of letters and documents in his office room, and among all the materials, she found a letter with a name she didn't recognize: Seán Ó Ceallaigh.

Rith Siobhán leis an t-ainm sin.

Siobhán turned over this name in her mind.

Chaith a hathair saol iomlán i Rath Cairn agus bhí clú agus cáil air.

Her father had spent his entire life in Rath Cairn and was well-known and respected.

Treightnigh agus tuisceanach, a dúirt gach duine.

Compassionate and understanding, everyone said.

Ach cén fáth nár chuala sí faoin bhfear seo riamh?

But why had she never heard of this man?

Is minic a labhair a hathair faoina am atá caite, ach níor luaigh sé riamh Seán Ó Ceallaigh.

Her father often spoke of his past, but he had never mentioned Seán Ó Ceallaigh.

Bhí iarracht déanta ag Cillian, a deartháir, í a chur ar a suaimhneas nuair a luaigh sí an litir leis.

Cillian, her brother, had tried to reassure her when she mentioned the letter to him.

Bhí a chuid eolais teoranta ach léirigh sé go raibh sé ar intinn aige an rún a choinneáil.

His knowledge was limited, but he implied he intended to keep the secret.

"Níl gá leis seo anois," a dúirt sé go stuama.

"There's no need for this now," he said calmly.

"Tá sé imithe agus ní thig linn anoraidh a dhéanamh."

"He's gone, and there's nothing we can do."

Ach bhraith Siobhán go mb'fhéidir go raibh rud níos mó i gceist leis an litir sin.

But Siobhán felt that perhaps there was something more to that letter.

Theastaigh uaithi fios a bheith aici cé aige a bhí baint leis an gcaint sin, agus cén fáth go raibh sé chomh rúnda.

She wanted to know who was involved in that conversation and why it was so secretive.

Ar an lá speisialta d'athair, chinn an teaghlach go raibh siad le chéile ag an aillte chun cuimhneamh air.

On the special day dedicated to their father, the family decided to gather at the cliffs to remember him.

Siobhán agus Cillian, in éineacht lena máthair agus a gcol ceathracha agus gaolta eile, bhí siúlóid solúbtha acu ann.

Siobhán and Cillian, along with their mother and their cousins and other relatives, took a casual walk there.

Bhí ciúnas agus áilleacht na haillte ag dul go mór leo.

The serenity and beauty of the cliffs resonated with them deeply.

Amhail is gur cinniúnach, sheas Siobhán ag imeall na haille.

As if by fate, Siobhán stood at the edge of the cliff.

Fuair sí misneach as an dóchas a bhí aici an fhírinne a choinneáil ach gan í a scriosadh.

She found courage in her determination to hold on to the truth without destroying it.

D'fhéach Cillian uirthi, a fhios aige go raibh rud éigin tábhachtach ar tí tarlú.

Cillian looked at her, knowing something important was about to happen.

"Níl uaim ach,” a dúirt sí go hoscailte leis na daoine, “cuimhneamh ar athair mar fhear iontach.

"I only want," she openly said to the people, "to remember father as a remarkable man.

D’fhéadfadh rún dul isteach inár saol. Ach creidim gur léiriú é a rince ar an saol.

A secret might enter our lives, but I believe it reflects his dance with life.

Choinnigh sé roinnt scéalta, b’fhéidir le haghaidh ár gcosanta."

He kept some stories, maybe for our protection."

Rinne na focail í a fhréamh ar a chlann.

Her words grounded her among her family.

D'fhéach Cillian uirthi agus chonaic sé go raibh sí dílis fós dá bhféiniúlacht.

Cillian looked at her and saw she was still loyal to their identity.

Bhí sí toilteanach leanúint ar aghaidh gan difear a dhéanamh ar gach rud a chreid siad.

She was willing to move forward without altering everything they believed.

Leis sin, siúl na scéalta sean agus nua fite fuaite le chéile, choinnigh Siobhán áit a hathair sa scoil náireach aigne.

With that, the intertwining tales of old and new merged together, and Siobhán held her father's place in the fragile sanctuary of her mind.

Ní raibh gach freagra aici, ach bhí sí sásta fáilte a chur roimh imní na réaltachtaí nua.

She didn't have all the answers, but she was ready to embrace the uneasiness of new realities.

Chuaigh siad abhaile, athair fós idir ann agus as bhealach a saoil.

They went home, their father still both present and absent in the path of their lives.