St. Patricks Day

Dear Mom,

Boy oh boy, I'm not sure if it's the time change or the dreary weather but I have been trying to figure out why I feel so low today. I keep thinking about you and wondering when I'll be able to do that without this heavy sadness accompanying the thoughts. People say it gets easier with time. My question then would be, how much time? It's coming up on five months now and some days it feels like it's getting harder. The more time that goes by without being able to see you or talk to you makes me feel like I miss you even more.

No, I wasn't sure what was bringing on the tears today. I thought maybe because the first purple crocus has popped it's head in the back yard and I know how excited you would be to see it could be the reason. Or it could be all of the buds on the pear tree in the front yard that are hinting at it's imminent blossoming. Knowing how much you loved that tree in full bloom could be to blame, but I don't think that's it.

Two more days until St. Patrick's Day and my "So proud to be Irish" mother is not here to celebrate with. I'm having flashbacks of you and Nan in the kitchen wearing the green plastic hats, holding the green plastic shillelaghs wearing the green and white Hawaiin leis (not sure how those ended up being part of the outfit other than the green!), smiling and singing away. The smell of corned beef and cabbage permeated the air and there was no shortage of Irish Whiskey flowing into those short plastic cups. You know, the cups that were responsible for Nan's famous saying, "Can you fix me another short one hon?".

Of course a visit from our Irish neighbor across the street was always part of the routine on St. Patrick's Day. Listening to his thick Irish brogue was always intriguing to me and watching him try to navigate his way back home on foot after the celebration had ended was always the highlight of the evening! Oh such wonderful memories of celebrations passed. I know that the Swedish side that Dad passed down to us always got alot of attention what with the bakery and all and I know you were proud of that too, but St. Patrick's Day was one day out of the year that the yellow and blue took a back seat to the green. On that day you got to claim your heritage and you sure did it with gusto!

I don't know that I will be celebrating on Wednesday with as much gusto as you did but you'll be happy to know that I will be meeting some people you loved very much bright and early on Wednesday morning for an Irish breakfast at an Irish Pub and I will be wearing green proudly in honor of you my love. Give Nan and Junie and Frank and all of your Irish cohorts up in heaven my love and know how very much I miss you. In the meantime, this one's for you Mommy...

"There's a tear in your eye,
And I'm wondering why,
For it never should be there at all.
With such pow'r in your smile,
Sure a stone you'd beguile,
So there's never a teardrop should fall.
When your sweet lilting laughter's
Like some fairy song,
And your eyes twinkle bright as can be;
You should laugh all the while
And all other times smile,
And now, smile a smile for me.

When Irish eyes are smiling,
Sure, 'tis like the morn in spring.
In the lilt of Irish laughter
You can hear the angels sing.
When Irish hearts are happy,
All the world seems bright and gay
And when Irish eyes are smiling
Sure, they steal your heart away.

For your smile is a part
Of the love in your heart,
And it makes even sunshine more bright.
Like the linnet's sweet song,
Crooning all the day long,
Comes your laughter and light.
For the springtime of life
Is the sweetest of all
There is ne'er a real care or regret;
And while springtime is ours
Throughout all of youth's hours
Let us smile each chance we get.

When Irish eyes are smiling,
Sure, 'tis like the morn in spring.
In the lilt of Irish laughter
You can hear the angels sing.
When Irish hearts are happy,
All the world seems bright and gay
And when Irish eyes are smiling
Sure, they steal your heart away."

xo,
Carrie