Friday, March 17, 2006
My Irish roots, my daddy
Gosh, I have such emotions today... melancholy, irony, whimsy, wistfulness. Daddy loved this day. He was proud of his Irish heritage. Though our last name was actually Welsh, both his parents were Irish, grandparents emigrating here during the potato famine. Even in feebleness, Daddy would have me pin a green shamrock on the lapel of his robe, and he would watch the St. Patrick's Day parade on TV if he could find it telecasted. He'd chide us if we deigned to leave the house without some "touch 'o green" in the wardrobe (such an unflattering color!), and even my British-roots husband would play along with honoring the Irish on this day. I'd cook some type of meat with cabbage for our supper every year, and try to decorate a cake with green frosting (some successes, tho also some failures!). Some days I just can't get Dad out of my mind... he's been dead 10 years this year...after living here with us for 13 years... and I still miss 'im. Eh, Dad, I hope ye were in heaven 10 minutes before the Devil knew ye were gone... Love, your younger daughter
Posted JDaaris @
7:18 AM ::
8 chocolate drops
Gimme some chocolate!
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