St. Patty's Day Blues

As I've already mentioned, I'm not a huge fan of St. Patrick's Day. I've always worn green and participated in the fun, but I've never really found it that enjoyable. These past seven St. Patty's Days in particular have given me the blues. My cousin Evan was a St. Patrick's Day baby and he was as Irish as they come. Red hair, fair skin, kind, compassionate, Catholic, and fun. Growing up, my brothers had a bad habit of not including me in sports and games, but Evan always took the time to make sure I wasn't feeling left out. He taught me how to play pool and helped me beat my other cousins. He'd even sit games out to keep me company.

He also taught me that life is short. In January of 2005, two months before his 17th birthday, he was killed in a car accident on the way to school. Any death is hard, but the unexpected death of a young person cause extra pain. I wasn't a close to Evan as I would have liked to be. He lived in N.C. with his dad and I probably only saw him once a year. But I still miss him dearly. I miss the times we could have had together. Family get-togethers just aren't the same without his smile or his laughter. He'd be 23 today. Graduated from college, starting his own life, doing something amazing I'm sure. I'll try my best to enjoy today because I know Evan would have wanted me to smile. He's my Irish angel.