St. Patrick's Day Thoughts

There's something about holidays to get me thinking...and also to remind me that I haven't posted anything in a while. So here goes.

St. Patrick's Day never meant too much to me as a kid. It was a reason to wear green so as not to get pinched. Sometimes I would try to cover up the green in the hope that if someone tried to pinch me, I could show the green and then retaliate by punching them. (Ah, the innocent yet violent games we played as children.) But not being Catholic or Irish (that I knew of), the significance of the day never extended beyond that.

Sometime in college, I found out that I have ties to the Wallace clan. Yes, the same Wallace clan as William Wallace of Braveheart fame. (Break out the bagpipes!) I also found out at this time (from a Scottish classmate) that the Scots celebrate St. Patrick's Day by wearing orange instead of green. So I began wearing an orange shirt and explaining myself to anyone who questioned the absence of green. (No pinching was involved that I remember...I suppose we do grow out of some things.)

Finally, a few years ago on a trip to England and Ireland, my parents found out that my mother's family name, Hurley, is of Irish origin. So I do have a bit o' the Irish in me after all. Now I can wear green, or orange, or both, and still celebrate my heritage authentically. (The only thing I have that's green and orange is an old University of Miami shirt, as those are the school colors. Good thing I've kept it.)