By Who could ever think that our patron saint’s day could be all muddled up & mixed up with grief?
Maybe this year 2021 more than ever before. So many people will not get absolutely blotto drunk in a pub (bar) in Ireland this year as the pandemic lockdown continues. Many of you have been grieving the pints for more than a year now. The struggle is real and the cravings might never go away.
I am not a drinker so I will not miss the pubs being open or not. As an Irish man, it is only fitting that I would have a son named Patrick. I mean half of our country is called Patrick, right? And if you happened to be called Patrick Murphy, then I think you should never be required to carry a passport.
Patrick is a saint or was a saint or, I do not know which. An angel, for sure. My little baby Patrick died when he was only 1 year and 4 months old. A tragic story and something that occurred in 2014. He drowned in a swimming pool. There is a ton more dramatics surrounding the morning that he died, though the bottom line is, he was pronounced dead at around 9 am one Sunday morning in an emergency room of a hospital. Yes, we got him from the pool and into an ambulance, the resuscitation effort never stopped for 3 straight hours almost. 7 years ago this year, imagine!
Patrick’s birthday has passed recently and it is another day that can be quite hard for me emotionally. Me, a simple man who would have loved to share his 8th birthday with him. Playing and dancing and having the “father son” time I always feel that we deserved. It just was not meant to be. The day he died is a day that is imprinted in my mind, the images and memories will never leave me, not because i do not want to forget or I have some morbid sickness that I want to remember his lifless body on that day. Nope, I am not sure, why? It only feels like yesterday, I have no idea on some of the harder days how I get through. What I do know is that every so often I am reminded in a stronger way, a way in which it is not just memories or thoughts that bring a smile or a tear. Something more than this, something very emotional, emotions of anger that can be very strong. Can we call strong anger rage? And then like a weakness, a feeling of hurt and tears and weak. What is this weakness feeling? It is this kind of thing that I can explain only like this, a feeling of wanting to drop to your knees and cry. A feeling of how your emotional strength leaves you right at the exact time when your physical strength leaves you too. Your mind can be lost and affected by these overwhelming moments.
GRIEF. What is it all about?
This is a question I dare not even begin to make an attempt to explain. Grief is larger than us as people. I am a pretty large guy, well I am not small and this grief stuff has shown me how large it can be. I do know or am aware that grief is not the same for everybody and we all have our own ways of how we get through. For any of you who may be reading this right now who know what I am speaking of and what it has been like for you to lose your child. I offer to you the warmest of hugs, the best of my wishes and the heartiest warmest St. Patrick’s day blessings. To all of you who may suffer or struggle with grief on any given day, I salute you for your courage and the bravery you hold inside of you to continue each and everyday. You are to be admired.
I never knew what it all was or why people would breakdown and cry. I never knew that a simple day of celebrating being Irish all around the world, the 17th of March, I never knew it could ever become a day that I would grit my teeth at. To give you an idea of how a thought might cross my mind on these few days 15th ~ 16th ~ 17th of March.
St. Patrick’s day this week, “Fuck you St. Patrick’s day, every day is Patrick’s day. Fuck this saint shit. And all this holy crap. Where was the almighty when I was trying to blow life back into tour lungs? Fuck a saint’s day. They don’t know Patrick, what it is like every time I hear your name. Please forgive me Patrick, I tried everything, something stronger and more mighty than me took you from me that day. I didnt deserve you is all I can think. You came and rescued me. I could not return the favour to you when you needed it the most. I am your father, I became your father, I will always be your father, you made me a father again. I will always have this bursting love for you, I just wish I could hold you now and tell you all about St Patrick and how your name came about. God dam it! I miss you. I wonder about you every day, not just on March 17th. But sure you know that cause you are with me ever since. You help me be strong Patrick, you help me when I am down and you are always reminding me of the smiles and laughs. I love you Patrick, my little angel and the mightiest saint I have ever known. Daddy loves you “.
Imagine a day where these are the things that can just pop right into your head?
Ah yes, we all have our person that we miss a lot, I like to write to you about my children and my experiences with grief. I always wish to find a way to bring it all out in the open and make it so that the journey in grief can be an open conversation. To “normalise” the topic of conversation about grief, about how you feel in the journey of grief. To discuss how normal it really is, to share with you the passage above and shed some light on how normal it really is to feel angry and bitter and sorry and lonely and then in the exact same breath to become soft and vulnerable. It is all just a part of missing someone and loving someone that is no longer with us.
Grief on St Patrick’s day. If you are like me, a father who has lost a child or a person who is missing someone who has passed. Maybe today is hard for you as their birthday is today or the anniversary of their death is today or very close. Perhaps right now is 3 o clock and every day at 3 o clock is difficult for you because that was the time of their passing. I wish for you to communicate these feelings to someone, the universe or a friend or anyone. I invite you to comment below and share any of the pain you feel. Or the joy, the tricks that help you stay sane when GRIEF comes a knocking.
So there ya go saint Patrick’s day, another year I can wear the green and feel oh so proud to be an Irish man. Thank you for reminding me of my very own little saint who helps me every day.
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