Today means many things to me.
Today means I’m Irish. It means I’m dancing, adding whiskey to my coffee, laughing with friends and family. I’m baking soda bread and thinking about the last time I saw Sister Nora. I’m calling my mom and talking about pirate queens and planning a dream vacation. It means I’m never going to stop wanting to know more about the people who came before me.
I’ve learned a little bit more about my Irish family in the year since I wrote this. In three weeks, I’ll be in the town where my grandfather was born 101 years ago today. I’ll visit the tiny island my ancestors called home, and find the grave of my great-great grandfather John, about whom this was written:
“He might be truly described as one of ‘nature’s gentlemen,’ for he was mild of manner, of genial disposition, and most benevolent. Those traits of character came to him down through the centuries, as he was descended from a renowned family, who gave their all to the aid of Grace O’Malley, the remains of whose castles stand stiff and stout along the Western seaboard. A good neighbour, a practical Catholic and a true Irishman, he will be missed by all who knew him, but none more than the people of Clare Island, of which he was a native, and all will join in praying earnestly that the Almighty may give him the reward of an absolutely blameless life.”
Today means so many, many things.
But mainly it means I’m lucky.