I am delighted to have a new essay out in the world, one that celebrates the memory of my dear friend Winnie.
Here is a wee excerpt:
“One of the reasons we became friends so easily, even though I was fresh out of college and Winnie was nearly 40, was our Irishness, and our big, rollicking Irish-American families. Winnie’s parents, like my grandparents, were born in Ireland. From Winnie, a redhead with a melodic laugh, I’d learned to call Irish fiddling “deedle-dee” music. From me, she’d learned to expect Irish soda bread for St. Patrick’s Day and Christmas. We’d consumed barrels of tea in each other’s company over the years, and when we gave each other gifts, they were as likely as not to have some connection to tea, and/or to Ireland. Sometimes we joked about the sappy sentimentality of the Irish; other times we got sentimental together over practically nothing.”