Some Words...

For many years I dreaded this day even though it seems almost sacrilegious to hate a day that celebrates my Irish heritage. When I was growing up this day meant some sort of legalized excuse for my father to take the day off work and get blitzed. He's Irish, the real kind, home grown from Belfast. It was in his blood, the tendency to drink that is. The rest of the days he was inebriated I had right to resent him but not this day, everyone gets drunk on St. Paddy's Day. I remember one year that my friends and I went to the parade then out bar hopping. I was pretty intoxicated by noon and as pleased as I felt with myself, I wasn't prepared to see my reflection staring back at me. As I sat there laughing with my friends I spotted my father sitting across the bar from me. He hadn't seen me but I saw him in all his drunken glory. He looked ridiculous throwing his head back in laughter, women hanging on him, slamming those beers one after another. My father is an alcoholic not only on St. Paddy's day, but every day. As anger swelled inside of me sounds echoed in my head. It was the sound of my own drunken laughter. I was my father, he was me. There is nothing more sobering than a reflection of disgust mocking you from the other side of the room. I left that bar, I left that place. I'm not an alcoholic but I believe it's because I'm always aware of who I could become if I let that path choose me.

This year is the first St. Patrick's Day that I don't dread. My father came up to see me about a week ago and he, my daughter, and I attended our first Chicago St. Patrick's Day parade, together. As I stood there watching my dad hold my sweet girl, kiss her cheeks, laugh a sober laugh that filled my heart with ease, I realized that my dad was giving me what he could, a day in his life where I was more important than booze. I caught a glimpse of the man I knew before that disease tainted my memories. My dad is still an alcoholic, that's something you don't erase, but he drinks less and more importantly he doesn't drink around me or my child. I've learned that sometimes you have to take what you can get and cherish it for what it is.

The picture above is the Chicago river which was dyed green a week ago in honor of St. Patrick's Day. I'll leave you with my favorite Irish blessing:

May you have the hindsight to know where you've been
the foresight to know where you're going
and the insight to know when you're going too far.