Remembering Dee Dee and Donald

To me, it is Saint Patrick's Day, not Paddy's Day.  There is no green beer, Guinness, "Car Bomb" shots, green outfits with stupid sayings on them.  There is no fake jig dancing, hopping up and down and kicking, pretending to replicate the ancient skill of folk dancers.  

I sing songs this time of year about hunger strikes, about the the occupation of a people by another people, wrongful imprisoning, about gruesome war crimes, about terrorism, and about the love between families, between men and women, between men and God.  I sing songs about celebration, such jubilant celebration that men whimsically drank far too much and celebrated, because the stakes were so high and they had won.

Monday is about remembering.  It's for Delia Neylan Schmitt, my late grandmother, who was so proud to be descended from Ireland, and passed that nationalism onto her children, and her children's children.  It's about Donald Staszczyk, born on St. Patrick's Day, my grandfather, whose legacy and life looms ever larger in my own.  The loss of them both this time of year is palpable.  I can taste it, smell it.  

Saint Patrick's Day is solemn; it really is a high holy day.  On Monday I sing songs for men and women I have never met, but who stood up to oppression, fought and died for something greater than themselves, or just decided that they should give their families a better life.  Saint Patrick's Day is for all American immigrants, and we celebrate how similar we are.  The themes and struggles of the Irish people are transcendent to all peoples, and through their song, we can examine them in a closer way.

Shakespeare, it was believed, would always play the ghosts in his plays, and the characters often had the same general message, "REMEMBER ME."  That is the greatest honor we can have for any one person, to keep their memory alive, their legacy.  It's why we build statues, print faces on money, name institutions, and sing songs.  On March 17th, on the high holy feast day of Saint Patrick, the patron saint of the Republic of Ireland, we remember the ghosts of the past, both those from legend and from our own lives.

Now that's a holiday I can sink my teeth into.