Today is St. Patrick’s Day. We always celebrated St. Patrick’s day, but this is the second St. Patrick’s Day without Claire — no corned beef and cabbage or green beer today. It appears that celebrating St. Patrick’s Day, or any other day, isn’t the same when you’re grieving — nothing is.
The day itself commemorates the death of Ireland’s patron saint — originally it was a religious observation. Of course in recent years its solemnity has mostly been forgotten and the day has turned into a day for people to celebrate their Irish heritage (whether they have one or not.)
Not that all days aren’t, but holidays are especially hard for me — experiencing them without Claire is a real downer. I don’t seem to be able to avoid an unwilling resentment toward couples I see enjoying days like this together. My urge is to walk up to them and say, “Whatever you do, don’t take each other for granted — you’re together. You don’t know how important that is.”
I absolutely understand when someone says Happy St. Patrick’s Day, or happy this, or happy that. Sure, I want to be happy, but the fact is I’m not. I guess I’d rather hear from people that they’re sure Claire is celebrating the day in Heaven…. for some reason it bothers me that others don’t acknowledge her absence. I think I’d rather hear, “I’m sure you’re missing Claire today. I’m thinking of you,” instead of “Happy (whatever) day.”
But life goes on and holidays come and go…. and Claire walks beside me every day, unseen, unheard, but always near — still loved, still missed. I guess, for now, that’s enough.
Happy St. Patrick’s Day.
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