Ireland Forever

My Irish Heritage

Growing up in Southern California I would love to sit on our front lawn and scour the grass for four-leaf clovers. I was sure that I would someday find one of these gems because Dad said I had the luck of the Irish. I never did find the four-leaf clover, but I did find a deep connection to my heritage in the eyes of my Dad. He was a second-generation Irishman who grew up in Boston. His Grandmother came from Ireland to the shores of Boston Massachusetts in July of 1872.

My great grandmother was from a remote region of Munster, Ireland’s southwestern province of Cork and Kerry and the boggy highlands of Limerick. Cork was considered “the rebel city” with many Irish outlaws who fought against their British rulers. They practiced Catholicism and aimed to preserve a distinct culture of Gaelic language, literature, song, and dance. My ancestors most likely were into potato farming and dairying. This must be where I get my strong bones.

I remember my mom making corned beef and cabbage every Saint Patrick’s Day for my Dad and at the dinner table he would educate us in the importance of Erin go Bragh. I never really understood what he meant until I traveled to Ireland and gathered my own allegiance to my heritage, the Celts and the powerful warrior woman of ancient times. 

On this day I remember and honor my Dad, his mother and my great grandmother Mary. I am blessed with Irish wisdom, a rebellious and tenacious nature and mystical abilities of my Celtic ancestors. With loyalty and affection, I want to express “Erin go Bragh” Ireland forever.