Kiss That Blarney Stone 

           It is hard to have the last name of FINN and slide past St. Patrick's Day without acknowledging that Patricia is the female version of Patrick and that Finn is an Irish name. I was shocked to only recently learn that Saint Patrick was British, but I guess you never know what’s what and who’s who. So far no one has found a way to pick their ancestors and our heritage remains one of the few things we are not be able to change. Teaching preschool, I would sometimes say, “You get what you get and you don’t get to pick.” Not a popular 21st century idea; but I am old enough to still think that some facts are facts. My ancestors came from Ireland, I am not sure how to change that and I am not sure I would want to if I could.

            You may be asking, what's good about Gaelic?  With all ethnic stereotypes there is a foundation of truth and a mountain of myth. Do I like the color green? Yes. A friend visited Ireland and when she came back; she marveled at the truth that it really is very green, not from grass but from a lot of shamrocks.

          Do I like gold? Yes. That association comes from a pot being at the end of a rainbow which has definitely been my experience with gold. Have I gone to Ireland? No, but I grew up with families named Kelly, O'Callahan, and McCarthy. Wasn’t the whole world Irish? I grew up in an Irish suburb and never gave it a second thought. We were all Irish. We were all Catholic and that was that.

        I am told that in Ireland, the Finn family were held in high esteem because they had the only farm with a tin roof. Unfortunately, this was reported by a relative who visited the farm in the 1980's, but prosperity is prosperity. I have the sea trunk that my great grandfather used in the 1840’s to cross the Atlantic to escape the potato famine in Ireland. In a grandparent’s attic full of treasures, I found an old Irish Erin Go Bragh flag.

          My aunt visited Ireland and kissed the Blarney Stone, which was not an easy task, apparently she had to lean backwards over an abyss. While there, she bought me a beautiful ring the shape of a shamrock. I also like Waterford crystal and Belleek china if anyone is taking notes. The Celtic Cross marks her grave and that of my Irish ancestors. Examining the facts carefully, they all point to being Irish.

          In Proverbial Wisdom (Walking With My Foot In My Mouth book) I wrote an Irish Haiku. "Ice floating in a glass of clear liquid."  My father would speak of someone's ‘elbow bending habit’ and they in turn would say "There is nothing worse than reformed drunk." It is true that the Irish excel in the sport of drinking, but I like Notre Dame’s slogan, The Fighting Irish. It has implications of strength and determination. I like being Irish.