I've always been a fan of St. Patrick's Day. When I was little my parents made us champ and corned beef or stew and sometimes a cake with green frosting.
As a teen I learned that if you had the same name as a Saint, there was a name day which was kind of like your birthday and you got gifts or money on the day associated with the particular Saint. He's given made me lunch every year since.
5 years ago, my grandfather who was 8th generation North American Irish, passed away. He was my hero. He was born and raised on a farm east of Vancouver and was witness to a lot of the growth that city went through. He was a logger and a miner. He later moved to the Yukon and became a territorial Minister and fought for Aboriginal rights.
He spent half his time, often alone, in the bush, and the the rest raising my mother and siblings.
He loved nature and the environment to the effect my mother says he was somewhat envious of his affection for the outdoors.
This man taugh me about politics and tolerance and the balance in life. He took people at face value but never played the fool. He was honest and worked hard and but knew money wasn't everything.
When I was young a felt like I didn't belong, he was the one who let me know I did have a place in the world no matter what the ignorant said or did.
So now on this day, I drink not only to the Saint of literacy and of Ireleand, but to mygrandfather, my hero, my friend.
Here's to you Da!
As a teen I learned that if you had the same name as a Saint, there was a name day which was kind of like your birthday and you got gifts or money on the day associated with the particular Saint. He's given made me lunch every year since.
5 years ago, my grandfather who was 8th generation North American Irish, passed away. He was my hero. He was born and raised on a farm east of Vancouver and was witness to a lot of the growth that city went through. He was a logger and a miner. He later moved to the Yukon and became a territorial Minister and fought for Aboriginal rights.
He spent half his time, often alone, in the bush, and the the rest raising my mother and siblings.
He loved nature and the environment to the effect my mother says he was somewhat envious of his affection for the outdoors.
This man taugh me about politics and tolerance and the balance in life. He took people at face value but never played the fool. He was honest and worked hard and but knew money wasn't everything.
When I was young a felt like I didn't belong, he was the one who let me know I did have a place in the world no matter what the ignorant said or did.
So now on this day, I drink not only to the Saint of literacy and of Ireleand, but to mygrandfather, my hero, my friend.
Here's to you Da!