Why I LOVE and Don’t LOVE St. Patrick’s Day.
First I will start with don’t love…I lost my hero, my DAD, my role model on St. Patrick’s Day.
I was directing some Irish dancers for whom I had made their costumes, by hand, at one of the largest venues for St. Patrick’s Day in all of the Twin Cities. This was before cell phones (twenty-five years ago). I got an urgent message from one of the concierge at the venue who told me to go home for an urgent message. Luckily enough, at the time, I lived just a few short blocks away.
Some Irish friends came with me….true friends to leave a wonderful and loud party.
My step-brother finally called and told me that my wonderful DAD had succumbed to his heart disease.
I had been there only one month earlier and had hoped for a better outcome. But, I felt the need to salute a wonderful man today, twenty-five years ago who left this earth to become a star in the galaxy and beyond. He helped me become the woman I am today.
He taught me, along with my mother, how to conduct myself to be unflinchingly moral, truthful, thoughtful and ingenuity.
Bert Adams would be a saint if he had had the fortune to be Catholic. Everyone loved him. And, better yet, they admired and listened to him.
I can’t think of a better tribute.
It turns out that I am not only Irish descent
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