Ten Saint Patty's Ago

If you were at Logan Airport 10 years ago tonight, you'd see an energetic grandmother holding a four-year-old boy's hand trailing luggage behind her. You'd see a mother walking with an eight year-old girl and a six-year-old boy, all carrying travel bags filled with summer clothes.

We, my brothers, grandmother and mom, were boarding a plane bound for the tropical island of Puerto Rico. The first time we'd been out of the 48 consecutive states. We traded the bitter cold of New England for palm trees and an 85-degree breeze!

I always approach Saint Patrick's day with somewhat of a solemn feeling. A good feeling really because I'm flooded with memories of that trip, but it's just a yearly reminder that time is not passing, but flying by. I remember that trip in such detail. I could almost account for every minute-- every adventure, every fresh coconut we ate, all the hot bread in the morning, the fresh mangoes we picked from the patio of my Great-Great Aunt, the crazy car rides on congested roads, the mountains, the magnificent sound of the Coqui in the evenings, the endless family we met, the houses. It was an incredible trip. I dont think there has been one that matches it.

Minutes turn into hours, hours turn into days and days into years. Embrace today! :)

Grandma Maria, Me (8), Johnny (6)

Johnny watching a coconut being cleaned!

Stevie (4 yrs) holding a chick!