The following article originally appeared in the May 2008 issue of the Elevator Constructor.
Brothers and sisters:
A few years ago, my mother-in-law gave me a refrigerator magnet with two hands folded in prayer and the inscription “pray for me, my wife is Irish.”
I love my mother-in-law.
Although Diane’s heritage is German, she embraced the Irish Catholic heritage of her husband, Gerry, and together they raised eleven children, who collectively have given them, at last count, 20 grandchildren. She is the kind of person that makes you feel immediately welcome wherever you may meet.
For years, I resisted taking part in St. Patrick’s Day festivities because it wasn’t part of my heritage and I thought it to be hypocritical. Hey, it was the way I thought! Over the years, through Diane’s example, my view has softened. I see the wit; wisdom and the hospitality of those from the Emerald Isle and that you don’t necessarily have to be able to trace your heritage back to County Cork to be welcomed into the clan.
Throughout my life I have never been a joiner. I prefer to work alone and many of my hobbies are solo ventures. I could join a golf league, British car club or astronomy association for the comradery that comes from a shared interest. I have been involved in such groups with varying levels of satisfaction but I usually drifted away because I felt I didn’t belong.
To a certain extent I felt that way about the local for years until I became involved as the correspondent to the Journal. Now, through my interaction with our elected officials and with you through my 600 words a month, I feel that I do have a place and hopefully I can bring some of that feeling of inclusion to everyone who reads this column.
As I said at the start, I love my mother-in-law and remember: pray for me, my wife is Irish.
Through the Mill 