"If you're lucky enough to be Irish, then you're lucky enough"

Sure'n begorrah, it's St Paddy's Day! Erin go Bragh!

The sketch above is a page from my Scottish grandmother's autograph book from 1900. She'd be happy that I'm "remembering my British heritage."


Happy St Patrick's Day to you all! After all, we all have a little Irish in us on March 17th, don't we?

And since I'm thinking about my own mother, and remembering her today, here is the wonderful Irish poet Seamus Heany reciting a moving poem about his mother:

It's a poignant recollection of a single, simple moment with her that stayed with him forever...

In Memoriam: M.K.H 1911-1984

When all the others were away at Mass
I was all hers as we peeled potatoes.
They broke the silence, let fall one by one,
Like solder weeping off the soldering iron:
Cold comforts set between us, things to share
Gleaming in a bucket of clean water.
And again let fall. Little pleasant splashes
From each other's work would bring us to our senses.

So while the parish priest at her bedside
Went hammer and tongs at the prayers for the dying
And some were responding and some crying
I remembered her head bent towards my head,
Her breath in mine, our fluent, dipping knives--
Never closer the whole rest of our lives.