Member-only story
Saint Patrick's Day Celebration Honoring My Mother’s Roots
Lá Fhéile Pádraig sona daoibh
Growing up, my Irish mother shared stories about Tuam, a small town in County Galway, Ireland, where her family was from. Tuam sounded like something from a folk song — summers spent running through emerald fields, winters warmed by peat fires, Guinness, whiskey, and folk music, and a community so tightly knit that neighbors felt more like extended family.
My mother carried the lilt of Tuam in her voice, and no matter that she was born and raised in NYC, she easily slipped into an Irish brogue around St. Patty’s Day.
Enchanted by my mother’s passion for Ireland, I took my daughters to visit Tuam when they were younger, eager to share this piece of our heritage with them. But when we arrived, we were shocked at how sterile it looked — clean, yes, but unremarkable. The quaint charm my mother described seemed stripped away, as though someone had wiped the town clean of its history. It felt distant from the warm, lively place I had envisioned through her stories.
Maybe that’s why St. Patty’s Day felt so sacred in our home. It wasn’t just about celebrating Irish culture — it was about preserving my mother’s memories and honoring a place she held so dear to her heart — even if those memories were a bit rosier than reality.