IRISHMAN FOR HIRE

Just briefly!

Irishman For Hire is taking a week off. I had a fantastic (albeit crazy) extended weekend in Boston last week and this week, I am celebrating my fourteenth wedding anniversary with my beautiful bride, Mrs. Irishman! Happy Anniversary, Steph! I love you!

I also want to wish a Happy Belated Birthday to my cousin, Brett!

I do have a new feature to share with you; a new page called “Leabhar Mór-éilimh” … Click on the link to check it out and provide feedback!

Have a wonderful week! I should be back next week with a new article!

The other day, during the snowstorm, I was watching an episode of Saved By The Bell with my kids. Later in the evening, as I was setting up my Face Book account, the underlying message of the episode dawned on me and I was flabbergasted. Zack was in a fight with one of his friends over a girl they were both interested in dating. Their teacher, Mrs. Bliss, interceded and told the two boys that they had been through too much together to let a girl destroy their friendship.

The more I thought about the premise of the show, the more I disagreed with the point that was made. I had a best friend who I hung out with all the time and we did everything together; we were as thick as thieves. The two of us had gotten into more trouble then we care to admit and when push came to shove, we stood firm in the face of adversity. We had been through a lot together. We had picked each other up when we were down, we shared in the glories of each others achievements, and no matter what; we could always depend upon each other. That was until the day I met one particular girl.

I fell in love with Stephanie on my twenty-third birthday. It was one of those fluke circumstances where happenstance and coincidence ran into each other in an earth-shattering collision that brought us together. My friends were late for my birthday bash while Stephanie and I spent the afternoon alone with each other. By the time she left to go home, we had kissed for the first time and I was instantaneously in love with her.

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I have a friend who has spent the past month telling me that her new favorite movie is P.S. I Love You. She told me that Stephanie and I had to watch it. When I asked her for a brief overview of the film, she told me that she cried throughout the movie; although she added that it was okay that she got emotional because it was “a feel good” cry. The words “a feel good” cry are not words I want to hear when someone is trying to get me to see a film.

A few weeks ago, HBO had a free preview weekend. As I perused the guide to see what movies were going to be shown, I came across P.S. I Love You and decided to record it. I figured it was free and by watching the film, I could tell my friend I saw it and I would never have to hear about how great a movie it is again. I would have drawn my own conclusions about the movie and that would be the end of the discussion. For those who have not seen the film, here is the synopsis of P.S. I Love You at imdb.com:

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Author’s Note: My Mother-in-law, Kathy passed away this week. This story was written three years ago and has not been shared until today; I would like to dedicate it in honor of Kathy. We miss you Kathy and as you loved to celebrate Holidays, it was a warm Fourth of July morning three years ago when I realized I had so much to thank you for!! Two of those reasons are mentioned in this article. Thank you Kathy for your love, your patience and guidance but most importantly, your friendship; especially your enthusiastic support for all of my stories. I loved sharing them with you. We all love you Mom and you will live in our hearts forever.

THE FOURTH OF JULY

I woke up to the sound of my youngest child, Chloe, fussing in her basinet. She was hungry and as I rolled over in bed, I saw Stephanie sleeping peacefully. The night before (the Third of July celebration in our town) had been a long night! We had fun with our friends during our annual barbecue, we saw an incredible fireworks display over our front yard, followed by more fun into the late evening and a little cleaning up afterward until we finally fell asleep long after midnight.

So five o’clock in the morning came earlier than usual and our six-week old daughter was hungry. I quietly snuck out of bed, picked up Chloe, carried her downstairs, started to heat up her bottle and changed her diaper. As I was waiting for the bottle to warm up, I looked out the window and saw that it was turning into an absolutely glorious morning. The sun was coming up on a quiet Fourth of July, the air was warm, and you could hear the birds beginning to bring in the new day with their songs of serenity.

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