Most Saint Patrick's Days, the weather is intolerable. March 17 isn't summer, of course, but our kids will insist we walk down to town to watch the parade. We'll stand at the side of the road, shivering as the rain sheets down, holding the kids high on our shoulders so they can watch the tractors pulling their floats, and the local school band skipping to the beat of a jig. The dancers and the clowns will sidle past, while the local town officials perch on the boots of their cars, getting soaked in the process.
We'll smile and laugh despite the cold, gamely looking toward the Heavens and praying that the damned thing will be over soon so we can take a bit of comfort. But time ticks on until the last float passes by, and the local fella dressed in the garb of the Saint ends it all as he waves his crook at the sullen skies. With the parade finished, we'll all break toward our just reward - which happens to be a pint or two at the local pub.
We'll sit at the bar, jawing with our friends as the glasses are raised, keeping an eye on the kids who run between tables and chairs like packs of laughing pups. Most of us will have gone to Mass before the parade, and we'll shake the rain from coats and hats as we sit in the warmth of the cozy establishment, drowning the Shamrock with towering pints of Guinness. Many of us will have given up the drink for Lent, and Lent isn't over until Easter, but Saint Patrick's Day is a day of divine dispensation where all drinking sins are forgiven.
When the kids get hungry they lead us home where we might find hot plates filled with bacon and cabbage, or chicken and ham, a full pot of mashed spuds beckoning to be eaten with butter. We'll eat our fill and perhaps watch the telly for a bit and, if we're lucky, we may hear a knock on the door where a good friend drags us again down to the pub, convinced that the Shamrock has not yet been properly drowned.
Saint Patrick's Day is Ireland's national day, a sort of Fourth of July and Thanksgiving all rolled in to one. It's a day for a bit of craic and of time with family. A day for a smile and a handshake and a hug and a laugh.
But not this year. Though Patrick may have banished the snakes, they're back as vicious as ever.
A Virtual Beauty
This year the rain has stopped and instead the sun is splitting the stones. The Met has forecast temperatures of up to 16 degrees C and maybe more. It's as if the Saint is teasing us because he knows that this year we'll not have a single parade. At least not one in person. This year, we could watch the parade pass by with the sun on our pates. But that's not going to happen. Not in 2021.
Like many countries, Ireland is closed. The streets where the parades take place each year are empty. The kids who usually march along with so much enthusiasm are gone home. The tractors are in their fields or locked in their sheds. No floats have been made by the town committees to mark the day.
The doors to the local pubs are shut tight. This year, we'll not have a chance to drown the Shamrock because the Guinness doesn't flow. We won't laugh together, nor sing together. We won't go to Mass together. We won't be able to share the craic.
Instead, we'll do it all virtually. We'll sit in our homes and think of what once was, and look forward to other Saint Patrick's Days. We might turn on the telly, watching the virtual events broadcast by RTE, our national TV station. Or we could turn to the computer or our Smart Phones where a special station, SPF - the St. Patrick's Day Festival - has been set up. We might check the radio to hear the throbbing notes of Riverdance or tune in for some Irish traditional songs and perhaps a Voyage by Christy Moore.
We might open a tin of Guinness and toast the good health of friends and family we cannot see this year. Later in the day, many might take a walk within family bubbles, steering clear from others who come our way for fear of harming anyone.
Today, we'll think of the people who are not with us this Saint Patrick's Day. We'll say a prayer for the 4,552 Irish people who have died from COVID, as well as their families.
We'll go to bed early, perhaps, after watching the sun go down on a far, cloudless horizon.
We'll pray for better times ahead, and ask Saint Patrick, the Patron Saint of Ireland, to throw out the snakes once again.
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Though the world is a poorer place right now, we still look to the horizon with hope. If you're dreaming of living and working in - or traveling to - Ireland, this book might be for you. At over 90,000 words, A Survivor's Guide to Living in Ireland, 2021, gives readers an insight of what it's like to immigrate to this beautiful country: of how to become a citizen, how to get a job and work visa, how to enjoy a perfect pint of Guinness, and the amazing tapestry that is Ireland.
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