Kiss me, I’m Irish!
OK, no. Please don’t. I’m not the touchy-feely type. Especially with strangers. You stay in your personal space, and I’ll stay in mine. I’ll high-five you, or do a fist bump. Maybe. You know what? Let’s just nod and wave to each other. Yeah, that works.
But, I am Irish. Well, like a sixteenth. Great-great grandparents on my mother’s side hailed from the Emerald Isle. It’s the only nationality I’m sure of in the Heinz 57 Western European cocktail that makes up my DNA, so it’s the one I claim. And it’s the only nationality that seemed to have any sort of influence over our family traditions. Growing up we ate potatoes at almost every meal, drank a lot of tea and always, always wore green on St. Patrick’s Day. We also had Corned Beef and Cabbage for dinner every March 17th. I’m told the holiday was a pretty big deal to my grandmother whose own mother was 100 percent Irish-American. Oh, and my name, CeeGee, means girl in Gaelic. So there’s that.
Every year when St. Patrick’s Day rolls around, I honor the Motherland and put on my green and dance a jig. Not really. I’m about as likely to dance a jig as I am to kiss you, but I will tear up at a good rendition of Oh, Danny Boy. I do wear green, which I’m told was something the Irish Catholics did, and that as a protestant I should really be wearing orange, and my Irish Catholic relatives would likely be angry with me if this were 1700. Thankfully it’s 2015, and we’ve found a way to all get along over paper shamrocks, Lucky Charms cereal and large metropolitan rivers dyed green.
Anyway, when March 17th comes, I’ll celebrate my Irish heritage with all the other Americans who become Irish for a day, even if their last name is Rodriguez, because that’s what we do in this country. We are hands down the best in the world at appropriating the nicest parts of each other’s cultural heritage and figuring out how to make a Hallmark Holiday out of them, so we can sell stuff. Capitalism at its best!
So in honor of my smilin’ Irish eyes, I made this little Irish Blessing you can print out and hang on your refrigerator, so you don’t feel left out of all the Gaelic gaiety.
Erin go bragh!
(Click the picture for a downloadable image.)