Saturday, March 17, 2007

A very Irish day

Another year, another Padraig's Day. In Ireland, they'll have had the St. Patrick's Day parade, but green beer, no, they wouldn't be doing that sort of thing.

I go to pick up some things in the neighborhood, and I cross paths with a Dublin boy. He's already charmed the girls around here by the looks of it, as I watch the giggling Canadian girls blowing him kisses.
He wants to buy somethingorother, but he doesn't know his way around. I help him out.
"Sounds like you just arrived from the ould sod," I say. He nods. And who could miss that broad Dublin accent. "Dublin, right?" I say. "It is," he says.
How do they find me?

I channel-hop and find myself listening to three young men on a stage harmonizing. The song? Danny Boy. But wait! Am I hearing things? Having sung it in English, they're now singing it in....German.

I root around the bookshelves looking for a book and out floats a scrap of paper, yellowed with age. "I'm so sorry, my darling," the note says, written in my Irish MIL's handwriting. The note she slipped into my coat pocket on the day of her eldest son's funeral. Can you imagine a mother doing that in the midst of her unimaginable grief?

A very Irish day, indeed.


  1. that paper falling out of the book - a sign for sure ((hugs))

  2. It is amazing..all the little things around us that happen every day...if we only pay attention. every now and then I run across little pieces of memories here and there. The note must have made that day coming rushing back. wow...

  3. Kismet! What an Irish day, indeed. xo

  4. Your Irish MIL-Your Irish husband- YOU...the power of LOVE eternal ((((hug)))


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