Even though I know there is no right or wrong way to blog, I'm a little nervous about getting started, but here goes.
Saint Patrick's Day. Every year at our house we eat corn beef and cabbage, every year we put on green, every year we remember Saint Patrick and celebrate the country that is part of my heritage.
Last night, while we were eating our traditional St. Patty's day dinner, I began reminiscing about my Grandma L. Since she died before I had Grant, the stories I told sparked Grant's inquisitiveness and the questions he asked, stirred the memories of her that I hold in my heart.
She was born in Ireland and came to America via Ellis Island with her mother and siblings when she was 12 years old. Her long fingernails were always painted red and I never remember seeing a chip. There was no-one faster at getting the right answers on Wheel of Fortune. She loved Murder She Wrote. Though, jewelry was not her thing, she wore her claddagh wedding ring until the day she died. She was funny in a dry, witty way. She loved her family, yet it was not always easy for her to express it with words. She liked to read mysteries. She told Reader' Digest jokes like they were her own original work. Corn beef and cabbage was her favorite meal.
Traditions are important, this year they brought my grandma's legacy to life.