Erin Go Bragh … Ireland forever! Or, Ireland until the end of time…
It also means Ireland until Doomsday, mildly dark for this St. Pat’s post.
It’s a reminder of the 1789 Irish Rebellion, ending with lots of Irish Catholics being shot, making it a rebellion and not a revolution. But I’m sure a few Guinesses made it feel better – on tap everywhere, even pharmacies and churches.
My great grandfather actually making money on the Irish beatdown, betting the English -7 on FanDuel.
But if my mother or My Captor had a tattoo, Erin Go Bragh a leading candidate.
And now we’re in March, it’s greening of nature matching our house-adorning Irish pillows and English voodoo dolls, with St. Patrick’s Day just ahead.
My Mother and My Captor among the most Irish of anyone I’ve met – even more than the Lucky Charms leprechaun. My parents married on St. Patrick’s Day, and this would have been their 1,233rd anniversary, or thereabouts (As an aside, that anecdote matching the Irish reputation for story telling accuracy).
But even my mother couldn’t match My Captor’s March wardrobe: Green colored clothing abounds, all month long!
And March wouldn’t be March without boiled food: Corned beef, potatoes, cabbage, and soda bread, which takes a while to dry out after the boiling process.
My mother’s corned beef dinner the best I’d ever had, but My Captor’s actually better, now my preference (Mom, you know I’m a captive, right?). Her colcannon the difference: Mashed potatoes and kale – and butter! – making kale taste good.
My Captor’s soda bread her other strength, our breakfast today and for multiple days!
In a partial ‘My Captor reveal’, she’s worried about the soda bread’s moistness, her common bit of cooking angst, even when baking; my job to reassure – only after extensive sampling, of course – and do the dishes. A very fair trade..
Not to get ‘all Doomsday’ on you, but March also wouldn’t be March without remembering the dead, an Irish reverence and preoccupation; ‘Keening’ the Irish “act of wailing in grief for the dead”.
Lots of death and sorrow running through Irish blood, beginning with the “Famine”, a historical fiction engineered by the English, to starve the Irish out. Followed by religious persecution, triggering the rush to America to open Irish pubs all over the East Coast.
My mother ‘keening’ her brother and father by talking about them, making them come alive again – looking forward to meeting them. But not for a while, hopefully.
For me, March the time to keen and honor my younger brother and our son. Both named Dan(ny), our son conceived and named in tribute to his uncle, the idea born at his funeral, he murdered by a drunk driver. And today my brother’s birthday, he’d have been 68.
As an odd aside, I knew what each of our children would be – I can’t do it for anyone else, don’t ask – and knew the next next would also be a boy, making My Captor declare celibacy.
A major part of my keening process, imagining what both lives would have been, who they would have become, both gone before reaching their life potential.
Another part, remembering the value – and fragility – of relationships. Both reminding they can disappear in an instance… if you take any of this for granted, you clearly aren’t paying attention.
So I offer a prayer, and a toast, to both of them – and to all who have gone before.
Because there is no future without the past; we take a piece of everyone we knew and loved along with us on our journey.
ENHANCE YOUR ENJOYMENT OF THIS POST, PAIR WITH THE FOLLOWING ‘AGING HIPSTER MUSIC’:
Katy J Pearson is an English indie-pop musician based in Bristol, England. Her music described as “earthy, Americana-tinged sound” citing influences including “idol” Kate Bush and PJ Harvey. And I like her too! ‘Talk of the Town’ a walk starter – a few songs saved to the BATN playlist.