Mother's day in isolation is doable, but Paddy's day in lockdown, In Ireland? That was tough

Ireland went into lockdown proper on Saturday. For the past 2 weeks, we were practicing - with semi-lockdown. The main difference is that, now, we can’t go further than 2K from our home to exercise. Fortunately, for us, we have two beaches within that distance, so it’s not exactly purgatory.

I used to tune in to the WHO daily updates, so I was ahead of events and the urgency, or lack thereof, in which they were reported here and the UK. Because of that, I didn’t wait for the government to shut schools, I took my youngfella out before then. When the country belatedly went into semi-lockdown, I stopped tuning in to the WHO daily updates & I don’t listen to the news anymore. All that matters now, is staying safe - & sane. I never underestimated how lethal Covid-19 was, so I don’t need daily reminders. The constant background noise, a bit like house music on acid, just feeds free floating anxiety that takes all of my energy to subdue.

That said, we managed to celebrate Paddy’s day, albeit in a fairly sedate manner. Windows in the towns & villages were adorned with homemade posters wishing passers by a “Happy St Patrick's day”! But, the kids needed/deserved something more, & Paddy’s day can’t go by without getting dressed up & parading about in sch-tyle. So, some clever clogs organised doing a couple of circuits of the village in our cars, with posters & shamrocks & leprechauns dangling out of the windows!

My yougfella spent over an hour sketching & painting this to go on display in our window 👆👏👏

We have a tradition in our house, when it comes to celebrating Paddy’s day, & we kept to as much of it as possible. We wore green & I dug out my Aran cardi from hibernation. My youngfella filled all the vases in the house with Daffodils from the garden, lit a candle, helped me bake a green cake & we danced a jig around the table. We also normally have a Paddy’s day party, inviting the youngfella’s friends.

This is our first year back in Ireland and the youngfella’s first time to celebrate the sacred day of all things green and vaguely Irish. A couple of years ago, in the UK, one of my yougfella’s friends said he couldn’t go to a Paddy’s day party in an Irish person’s house because, according to his mam, we’ll probably all get drunk, sing rebel songs and watch IRA films! I laughed & invited the mammy to come & help. By the end, I had her dancing a jig with me around the kitchen table. As God is my witness (as my mam would say), not a drop of drink was taken!

This year, there was no party & the cake was only vaguely green (there was only a dreg of green food colouring left 🙄. Other than that, it was wall to wall rebel songs & IRA films! Well, more jigs & reels, followed by a few episodes of Father Ted.

We also managed to celebrate Mother’s day, which was no different to other years, except that I’m in Ireland, in the midst of a savage pandemic.

More daffs & a beautiful hand crafted card by my youngfella, brought to me in bed. He slunk in beside me & I drew his head to mine & breathed in the distinct and increasingly, unwashed, essence of my child. Being his mammy is my best achievement. Even-though, 70% of the time I'm rubbish at it, the other 30%, I smash it & I'll take that, thank you very much...

I wonder: how much longer can I steal away these childhood moments, before the mother/son bond we share morphs into something else. The intense inter-dependency of a mother and child relationship is at once the most grindingly head messing and yet heart burstingly joyous thing ever. I know I only have him on loan and that one day I’ll have to hand him over to the world but, I don’t want to think about that now, so I don't.

As a daughter who has lost her mother, this day will always be laden by that loss. The candle on the table is lit in my mam’s memory & I remember her by telling my youngfella stories about his brave, determined, grafter of a granny.

T’was a lovely day, spent walking in the Burren, where we didn’t meet a soul, followed by a solo swim in the sea as the sun set over a Mother’s day that none of us will ever forget.

This was done, totally freehand in a matter of minutes. Job at the Beano beckons! 💖⭐