I have been thinking about my Dad today. My Dad passed away when I was eight months pregnant with my first child. So it's been a little over seven years now. I still miss him terribly and think of him every day. I have pictures of him all over my house and talk about him with my children. There are so many times when something happens and I think, what would my Dad have to say about that?
My Dad was not Irish. He was Italian. But he had some trouble with his family and in only the way an Italian can, he cut them off. When he was a young policeman he was partnered with an older Irish policeman. This man took my Dad under his wing and would include him in his big Irish family gatherings. So my Dad developed a real fondness for the Irish and all the closeness, traditions and fun that comes with a big Irish family. His favorite song was "Oh Danny Boy." We had it played at his funeral.
A couple of years before my Dad died, my parents went to Europe. They went to Britain, Italy, Germany, France.... but not Ireland. They always talked about and planned on making another trip over to see Ireland. I know my Dad would have enjoyed it so much. But they never made it. And I'll always regret that.
I talk to my Dad all of the time, out loud, still half expecting him to answer me. Sometimes he does in different ways. Today I am saying to him, "Dad I hope you enjoy all the Irish fun of St. Patrick's Day, the music, the dancers. I love you and miss you terribly. I'll have a beer or two for you. You know how I am!"
