I’ve never paid much attention to St Patrick’s Day before. My family is Scottish and Norwegian, primarily. It wasn’t our day.
Then I discovered my birth father was of Irish descent. His last name was McCourt.
So this is my first St. Patrick’s Day.
I will be spending it in Chicago, where I am attending the NEXT Church Conference, just down the road from a river I hear is green.
It is such an interesting journey to be on–discovering and claiming a heritage after 46 years of having that be a blank space.
I may not (or I may) drink green beer tonight. I will certainly watch this video.
The heritage in my birth family is more than Irish. Like most of us, our ancestors hail from many cultures and countries. I’m grateful for the strands, woven together to create me. I’m grateful for the way I can recognize my face and the faces of my children in the pictures of my ancestors.
But today, I’m grateful for the knowledge that a part of me is Irish. It may seem like a little thing, but today, it feels immense and sacred.
5 thoughts on “My First St Patrick’s Day”
for me, my paternal grandmother Flossie Emma Wright (Braxton) I knew in my childhood from birth until her 1969 death. supposed to be Irish.
I am also Irish, a McCarty. Welcome to the Irish clan! 🙂
Also, green beer is gross. Get a Smithwick’s.
And I’m 1/8 Irish–a Glennon. When my mom was dying, she complained (completely lucidly) that it was going on too long. I told her the Irish are a stubborn people. But, she said, I’m only a quarter Irish. Yes, I responded, but it’s the top quarter. She cracked up. I meant it.
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