Yesterday, before a big Irish breakfast, before the last minute preparations for the Irish Fest parade entry, and before the marching, partying and celebrating, I started my St. Patrick's Day the way I do every year, the way I have every year for the last 20. I went to the cemetery and shared a beer with my Dad.
Dad died just before St. Patrick's Day in 1986. Many of you in Kansas City might remember him as the honorary mayor of Westport. That year, and all since I take a can of beer (Schlitz, when I can find it. Dad worked for the local distributorship here for 30+ years) out to the cemetery on Troost just after dawn, and I have a sip before pouring the remainder into the dirt over his grave.
I mention this only because I think it's important to remember that in the middle of all the parties, parades, eating and drinking (and more drinking) that St. Patrick's Day is about family, tradition, history and heritage. It's about where we came from and why we are the people we've become. It's about the ones who made the sacrifices and hard journeys before us so that our way could be a little easier. I hope that we all had a chance yesterday to lift a glass to our own ones gone before, and drink a health to the families and friends who surround us now. And to the people who I was lucky enough to have shared my St. Patrick's Day with, thank you all.
Cheers.
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1 comment:
It was a great day to spend with "our own ones." Good fun, and wonderful to remember years past and those who made us think....hey, why not be a cow....."it's a great thing!" Here's to you, dad!
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