It’s marvelous how I can be in a moment and although I am fully aware that I’m having a wonderful, joyous time, I don’t quite recognize the full significance of the moment. Maybe if we knew when we’re in momentous events – that would ruin it…
St. Patrick’s Day in 2007 came on the heels of a major snow storm and I was lazy and only shoveled a single shovel’s width down my front walk and the side walk – this would prove significant the next day. I was anxious to get out and get to The Dubliner which was my favorite Irish Pub in Poughkeepsie, NY. Having been in Dublin I loved how the feel of The Dubliner was so authentically Irish.
I met a dear friend there. She is quite a bit younger than I and had a somewhat sheltered life so I was taking her out for some St. Patrick’s Day fun. No trips to the city for the parade, instead, The Dubliner would be just the ticket. I’d been there the night before, sharing a drink while the clock counted down the final seconds to the great day.
When Rindy and I arrived, the place was PACKED! You could hardly move. But somehow we got lucky and landed a well placed, elevated table. The pub had this riser just south of the bar where there were three tables and we had the one on the open end. It was perfect! Easy access to the bar on one side and the rest room on the other with a view of everything going on.
Everyone was so friendly and it seems like all we did was laugh. I remember one belly wrenching, tear flowing crack-up in particular – both she and I were shocked, and me humorously outraged, when a half drunk young man referred to me as her mother!! Come on, she wasn’t that much younger than me! And just when we didn’t think anything could get any better here came the pipers. How they fit 5 bagpipes and pipers into the room I have no idea but in they came. And for the first time that afternoon the music was louder than the crowd which was amazing. At one point a pipe was mere inches away from my face but oh what a sound. It was fabulous. I can’t hear pipes now without thinking of that time. It is the everlasting bar event for all St. Patrick’s celebrations since and, I’m quite sure, will never be surpassed.
What a day, a gift actually, because the next day my beloved dog died and a month later my mother was killed in a car crash. It was a gift of happiness before a long spell of profound sadness. But even had that not been the case I think I would still remember it as the best St. Patrick’s Day ever.