On the Road with Saint Patrick

Irish Roots

On Monday, March 17, I will be honoring the passing of a special person with a toast of Baileys. In my road in retirement with Parkinson’s and a brain-bleed speech impediment, these moments have a bit more meaning because they add to my purpose. No, I will be honoring not only St. Patrick but my mother, Rita, as well. You see, my mom has sown principles, maybe even unknown to her, that St. Patrick lived by. She always prided the Irish side of her heritage and genes, O’Cullen, and in that spirit, many of us kids ended up with Irish-origin names; but we also took hold of some of that St. Patrick resiliency. 

St. Patrick’s Influence

St. Patrick was enslaved by Irish raiders or pirates who took him from his native Scotland to Ireland, where he was sold into slavery for six years. During that immensely dark time in his life, he endured great hardship. But later on, as a missionary priest to Ireland, he returned to Ireland and brought Christianity to Ireland, gained sainthood, used a clover to illustrate the trinity, wove Leprechaun lore into his sermons, wore green all the time, and invented Guiness beer. Ok, none of those myths and countless others are true. However, Patrick did speak often about his relationship with Jesus and how it deepened during those dark days, especially fueled by an early life of constant prayer. Some of St. Partrick’s teachings and prayers have become my anthems, with many choruses sung to others in this blog:

“We can trust God with our days,” which comes from Psalm 31:15, “My times are in your hands.”

“We can trust that God will bring purpose through even the darkest of times,” derived from Romans 8:28, "We know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."

“We can be assured God's presence is always with us and His plans for us are good,” which could come from various sources, including Deuteronomy 31:6, "Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.”

My Mother

I have written in this blog how my relationship with my mom was not always the greatest, but I do owe her my name, Eileen. The story varies as to why it took so long (about a week) for me to be named from Irish culture and song, but eventually, it was my mom's decision. She chose an anglicized version of the Irish name "Eibhlín" with uncertain meaning; possibly "strength", "little bird", or "desired.” I think my mom just liked the Irish sound of it. After my mom’s 80th birthday and culminating six years later, I made peace with mom; well, not only with her but also with God in my own heart.

Mom’s St. Patrick’s Day

All of my family did their best to provide comfort to my mom in her last days. That included sneaking some Baileys Irish Cream into the assisted living place in western Wisconsin. I still remember Chris hiding a bottle for her behind the big TV, on a dresser stand underneath some boxes. When her time was drawing near during hospice phases in early March, Rita never vocalized it, but we all knew that she wanted to exit the planet on March 17. Lo and behold, and sneakily, she found a space of time when none of us were actually right there and went home to be with the Lord on St. Paddy’s Day. We had several false alarms of that departure for a few weeks before this moment. That was my tough Irish mother; her last earthly event was planned on her terms.

Slainté

For several years now, some of my family have been gathering (now usually on FaceTime) to hoist a toast of Baileys to Rita on St. Patrick’s Day. I am not much for alcohol since my brain surgery in May of 2023, but on occasion I may have a half glass of Blue Moon, Liney’s Summer Shandy, and Spotted Cow, or just a smidgeon of a glass of a fresh Moscow Mule or cooled Baileys Irish Cream; you know, nothing too serious 😊.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day, slainté, and here’s to you, Mom.