“The immigrant’s heart marches to the beat of two quite different drums, one from the old homeland and the other from the new. The immigrant has to bridge these two worlds, living comfortably in the new and bringing the best of his or her ancient identity and heritage to bear on life in an adopted homeland.”
- Irish President McAleese

While I wish I could claim to have Irish blood within my body, I haven’t studied my family history enough to know if I could yet prove that. My Dad’s Dad was born on Staten Island as his family moved from Germany in 1891. My grandmother was born in England over the pub that her parents owned. They immigrated to the United States when she was three years old. My mothers side? I know they have traced it back to the 16th century and her side is Mormon. Nothing against the faith but I know that somewhere in our family line there is an ancestor named Nimrod who had six or nine wives. I forget.

Good times.

I can go more into family history, but here is the point: I can’t honestly claim I am Irish and for that I am sad. My boyfriend is part Irish and is really, really proud of the fact. He comes from a big Irish family on his Mom’s side of the family and you could not meet a band of more loyal, warm-hearted, and lovable bunch of characters, ever.

Mack gets so excited as he researches his family history and looks more and more into his roots and deep connections to Ireland. His deep love and connection for his past and family makes me strive to learn more about my roots, where my family came from, and appreciate the history of it all.

This past weekend, we went to the St. Patrick’s celebration in our town and had a blast watching those around us get drunk off their arses and think that kilts are an Irish thing; they’re Scottish. Laughing, we took in the sights and snapped pictures, making memories and enjoying our time with friends and wishing family were there to partake.

The rest at my flickr set.

Before you all go out there and get a wee bit drunk (and hung-over on Wednesday) I encourage you to read up on Irish history and the backstory of St. Patrick’s day. That way you can appreciate this holiday as something besides an occasion to get drunk and have potentially incriminating photographs of you appear online the next day.

To all my Irish friends out there: Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

May the Irish hills caress you.
May her lakes and rivers bless you.
May the luck of the Irish enfold you.
May the blessings of Saint Patrick behold you.
~Irish Blessing

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