Category: Dog Art Videos

I met my grandfather when I was a child, but I don't remember him.  He died young of emphysema.  I recently discovered a book entitled On Another Man's Wound: A Personal History of Ireland's War of Independence
by Ernie O'Malley.  Jerry Kieley is one of the men involved in the fight.  My mother isn't sure if it is her father because the last name is spelled differently.  But we know he was part of the war, and when I read this description, I liked to believe it was him:

I wish I had a night by the fire with him to hear his stories.  So many questions.

When my mother was a teenager, the family got a dog, a Boxer named Lance after the knight.  Her father took some wonderful photos of her and Jerry and Lance.  Last year, I put them together into this video for her birthday:

This photo is of Nana and me at my sister Regan's baptism in Cleveland, 1973. I love her Jackie O suit. And I can see the charm bracelet she always wore with eights hearts with each of her grandchildren's names inscribed on them.   She always jingled and that sound, when I hear it on someone else, makes me think of her.  That, and the smell of Scotch on the rocks, not in a boozey way, but in a homey, one drink before dinner, Nana is in town and we're eating at the big table tonight way.  Cozy.

I am sure I gave her a hard time on this day because she would have put my hair in rag curls using flat beer as a styling aid the night before.  Sheila had natural curls so she didn't need help, but my older sister Kathleen would have had rags like me.  We always curled our hair for special occasions.  Kathleen's curls always came out in perfect ringlets like Nellie Olsen, but mine would be pouffy and I would be furious.   It would happen every time but Nana never gave up.  She would let me pout, my mom would put a pink bow or a barrett in my hair to tame it, and the next time Nana would visit we would do it all again.

Anyway, my mother always said a true Irishman doesn't need to wear green.  So without any shamrocks or leprechauns or pots of gold (not that there's anything wrong with them), wishing you a Happy St. Patrick's Day.  And if your grandparents are still a part of your life, pick up the phone and ask them about theirs.