Top of the morning to ya, or as the good “Cardinal Egan” of Imus in the Morning says, “Good morning and God bless!” So it’s not actually St. Patrick’s Day yet, but it’s close enough. The Wife inspired me to do like her this week so everyday since Sunday I have worn something green. She has done the same thing. In my case, I was able to come with a different green shirt for each day. All in good fun, I guess.
Admittedly St. Patrick’s Day always comes with a touch of mournfulness, but it’s nothing that I dwell on. For it was on St. Patrick’s night in 1989 that we lost my father to a heart attack while watching, of all things, The Quiet Man. I had last seen him on the previous Wednesday morning, when my cat woke me up to let him out. As I walked to the kitchen, my father was standing there, eating his breakfast. Not a word was spoken between us and I returned to bed. That Friday, I was going to stay home, having not seen him to talk to in a few days, but The Wife (then, The Girlfriend, of course) convinced me to take her out. So after I left work in Rye Brook, I drove to the Danbury Fair Mall to do some quick shopping for her birthday, and then picked her up. Back in those days, a night out could be some cheap dinner and a drive somewhere, or maybe a stroll around some shopping enclave. On that night, we had dinner at a Denny’s in Newburgh, then took a drive down Route 9W.
I can’t tell you for sure what time we got back to her house but as we pulled up, her father came out to the driveway and told me that my mother had called and that I was to get home. I would later find out that it was not my mother, but a family friend at the time whom I called “Ma.” My heart skipped a slight beat, but I assumed it was regarding my grandfather, who at almost 93, was beginning to slow down. I prepared myself for a probable trip to Florida for his burial.
When I got home, the first thing that stuck out at me was that the house was empty and all the cars were still in their places. My father’s Nova sat in the driveway, while my mother’s Caprice Classic was in the garage. An ashtray was knocked over, but my father’s cane was still by his chair. This was all strange to me, but I still wasn’t prepared for the worst. Was it possible that my father was so upset that he knocked over the ashtray (it was one of those stand alone types) and somebody took he and my mom out? That would be very odd.
It was time for answers. Who better than the aforementioned “Ma?” Though it was late, they never seemed to sleep over there, and I needed to know what was going on. She answered and I began to question her. Initially she wouldn’t give me anything, only saying, “they’ll be home soon.” At 20, I was impetuous enough that I wanted to know, so I kept pressing. This only lasted a minute or so before she uttered the words that forever changed my life: “Daddy’s gone.” Before I could react, she hurried off the phone.
One thinks that they’re supposed to cry, but that wasn’t what happened. My mouth went dry, and I grabbed a glass of orange juice (which would later make me sick). Then I punched the refrigerator. From there, I put my socks back on, because I had taken them off in the car during the night. Amazing the stupid things you worry about. Then I set about dealing with everything. The family – my mom, brother and sister – would be home in a few minutes.
The next few days would go by in a blur. Personal matter would be dealt with on Saturday, and the first wake would be Sunday night. This was also the first time that I would see my father with my own eyes. We would receive literally hundreds of people, from all walks of our lives. Monday would have two more wakes. As we closed up Monday night, I thought that we would close the casket, and that would be the last time I would see my father. Finally I broke down and for a good 10 minutes, was the sobbing wreck that everybody wanted me to be.
Only one thing stands out to me as truly bothering me. Tuesday, March 21st was the funeral. That happens to be The Wife’s birthday. I know she was just The Girlfriend then, but she had been around my family for over a year by the time of my father’s death, and wasn’t leaving anytime soon (and nearly 20 years and one child later, she’s still here). I don’t think it would have made a difference if I had put up a stink, but it just didn’t seem right. To her credit, she was nothing but decent about it, and continues to be unfazed by it to this day.
I was one of two people who delivered eulogies at the funeral. I remember speaking from the heart, and having several people compliment it. It wasn’t about that though. It was about representing my family, and reminding everybody of what a good man he was and will always be. Mostly, though, I wanted to honor his wish of keeping things lighthearted. While many cried by the time I was finished, many also enjoyed some laughs. Most of all, I honored his wish of having “Free Bird” be a part of his sendoff.
Life, while never being the same, has carried on. I pretty sure I know where he is proud of me, and quite positive where I think I would have let him down. I also think he had a strong notion that The Girlfriend would one day be The Wife. Speaking of The Wife, I can never forget how supportive and amazing she was through that difficult time. All of this was heady stuff for a young woman who turned 19 on the day her boyfriend’s father was buried.
Needless to say, we never forget the great man who remains my father. There’s far more to life though on St. Patrick’s Day. Too many great things have happened as well. We were on our honeymoon one year, and in London another year, and have had or gone to countless fun parties. I know it rankles some Irish folks that St. Patrick’s Day is often treated as an excuse to party to excess, but I think it highlights the fun of the Irish. Tell me what pub is better than an Irish one? So remember – tomorrow, everyone is Irish!
Before we move on, I’ve got this little nugget for ya. Besides The Quiet Man, there are many other movies and pieces of pop culture dedicated to the Irish that are quite, to quote the “Guinness” guys,
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