St. Patrick’s Day

There are all kinds of St. Patrick’s Day activities in town today but I have no plans to attend any of them. I am making Irish oatmeal for breakfast,  and I am wearing a green shirt.  I might pop up to the cafe for lunch, to get some corned beef & cabbage.  I’m a little less than half Irish, on my mom’s side, and I’m proud to be Irish and appreciate my heritage, but I’ve never been into the whole shamrocks and leprechauns thing, not for a while.

When I was a kid, growing up in Vermont, we used to watch the St. Patrick’s Day parade from NYC on Channel 11 (WPIX, which also had Popeye cartoons and Gilligan’s Island re-runs).  I went to school at the parochial school associated with our church, which was the Irish Catholic one, so we colored shamrocks and such.  I remember wearing little green plastic shamrock pins, and singing “When Irish Eyes Are Smiling”. ( In retrospect I find it interesting that, in spite of the fact that we had genuine Irish nuns at the school, including the music teacher, we never learned any real Irish songs.)

As an adult, I’ve never gone in for the green beer, pub crawl aspect of St. Patrick’s Day. When my kids were younger we’d read some fun Irish-themes picture books and make Irish Soda Bread (of course I get into the food aspects!) .  Beyond that, I don’t do much to mark the day.  My ancestors came over to America to escape poverty, famine, and religious oppression. They faced some tough times in America but prospered through hard work and perseverance.   They remembered their heritage and took pride in it, they remained true to their faith, but they were also very proud to be US citizens.  As am I.  I’d love to visit Ireland someday, though.

Interesting note: I grew up in Vermont, and in the small city I lived in, there were 3 Catholic churches: one built by the Irish Catholic immigrants, one built by the French Catholic ones, and one built by the Italian Catholics. Early on all three had parochial grade schools associated with them; by the time I was in junior high school (as it was still called in those days) only one of the schools was still open– at the Irish one.  It’s still around today.

High School Reunion

A few months ago I logged into facebook and found that a high school classmate had added me to the group for our 30th high school reunion.  Until that moment I hadn’t even thought about the fact that it was 30 years since I graduated.  I’ve never been to a reunion.  Even the time I was actually in my home town while a reunion was going on, I didn’t go. I didn’t hate high school, I had a reasonably good time there, but I never felt inclined to re-connect.

Back to the  Group thing. The first thing I did was un-friend the classmate who had added me.  She’s the only classmate I had kept in touch with, we had been good friends for at least a decade following high school, but had really drifted apart.  It annoyed me that she had added me to the group without asking me, or even informing me that she was doing so.  So, I ended the facebook friendship, and it’s no great loss.

But I have remained in the group, so far.  It was interesting to see photos and read a bit about old classmate.  I received several friend requests and accepted a few, then un-friended most of them and have become much more selective about who I friend.  It isn’t feasible for me to go to the re-union, but for maybe a day or two I almost wished I could.  As time went on, though, I just felt less and less inclined.  It seemed that most of the people going were not people I’d been friends with particularly, and most of the people I had been friends with and would have like to catch up with weren’t going, and weren’t even members of the group.

It also became increasingly obvious that a fair number of my former classmates haven’t changed a whole lot.  After a few days of particularly bizarre and ugly comments and flaming, a former classmate and I chatted on facebook and both of us felt the same way– we just weren’t interested in going, because we were just too far removed from it.  We’d moved on.

Several days ago I saw the following comment on the group page: “I think about high school a lot still.”  I don’t.  I rarely think about high school.  High school was 4 years (3 years, actually, our school district had 10-12 as a senior high, 7-9 as junior high).  In the 30 years since, I’ve gone to college, broke up with my high-school boyfriend, dated two guys seriously, met the man I would later marry, transferred to a new college and moved halfway across the country with him, graduated, got married, worked, had kids, moved 4 times, got divorced, have gone back to school, made new friends, struggled with health issues, and grown spiritually, emotionally, intellectually.  I’m the same person I was in high school, yet I’m so much more.  Those 3 years were not a significant time in my life, when I look back over it from age 48.  They were mostly good years and I learned much during them, but in terms of making me what I am today, they played only a small part.

I think it’s sweet that so many people formed good life-long friendships, that others have been able to move beyond painful memories and reconnect.  I’ve been impressed by the way the organizers have taken care to welcome everyone who joins up posts comments, even a girl who spent only her last year of high school at our school. I am quite sure the same friendliness would be extended to me if I posted.  I feel a certain jealousy for the classmates who have stayed in the area the whole time– there is much to be said for putting down good, deep roots somewhere.  I feel a certain nostalgia for the familiar places and names from that time.  If I met up with one or several of these people in the course of a day, I’d enjoy catching up over a cup of coffee or a drink.  But to gather together with a whole big group and drink too much and wallow in the memories– no thanks.

August

Summer is waning fast.  Where does the time go?  It has been a very busy summer, yet I don’t feel I’ve accomplished much.  Probably because I haven’t accomplished much.  No, that isn’t true, but I didn’t accomplish what I wanted to.  That’s not true either.  I didn’t accomplish the things I felt  I was supposed to.  I didn’t paint my room or tuck-point brick or re-do the bathrooms.

But I went to Vermont to see my niece graduate, and in addition to seeing my sister and one of my brothers I saw two good friends I hadn’t seen in years.  I also got to see the state I was born and raised in for the first time in almost 6 years.  (The last time I was in Vermont was right after I had separated from my then-husband for the second and last time.  The kids and I drove to Vermont to my parents and stayed there for 2 weeks while I licked my wounds.)

I helped out on a play our local theatre guild did, in a very small way, which was all I felt up to. I’ve been ultra-involved for the last 4 years and needed a break!

I’ve gone to American Players Theatre in Spring Green 4 times already (As You Like It twice, Another Part of the Forest once, Major Barbara once) and will go at least 2 more times.  I first went to APT three years ago and couldn’t believe I hadn’t gone before.  It’s absolutely fantastic and it is a little more than an hour from home– though it would be well worth a longer drive.

I haven’t had enough time with my kids, but in a week we go up north to Grand Marais, MI for the 3rd year in a row.  It is our special vacation time and we are looking forward to it.  Jacob leaves for college right after we get back and we’ll be right back into the busy time again, but I’m looking forward to a time of peace and togetherness.