I never do much for St. Patrick’s Day, and in the past I always got stuck working those nights. This time, I decided to take my son to the local parade. I have never been to the parade before, but I would often hear about it. I’ve seen many Christmas parades, so I kind of wondered the similarities or differences.
After work, I picked my son up from daycare. We grabbed a quick dinner at good Ol’ McDonald’s. Then, we ventured out to find parking. The streets started to get heavy as the town were preparing for a seat to watch the parade. I feared losing my chances at a good parking spot. Finally, I found a little parking lot, with several spots still open. Win!
As we sat and enjoyed our meal, something caught my attention in the rear view mirror. It appeared to me that my son’s best friend that just moved from daycare was parked right behind us. I know my son would be super excited to see her. It has been about a month since she moved away and switched schools. I didn’t tell him, I kind of wanted him to find out himself.
Finally, we got out and began walking up to his friend. She yelled his name first in excitement. They both hugged with wide eared smiles. His mother was pleased to see us also, “She has missed him so much. She talks about him all of the time”. I was in agreement that his feelings of missing her is mutual.
Then, we sat on a blanket awaiting the parade to start. We watched as the police controlled traffic and prepared to close the side roads. The children played with their electronics and made jokes. They laughed, smiled and anticipated the sights, sounds and candy of the parade. Finally, a police car pulled out to direct the parade.
The first sights to see were men in kilts and playing bagpipes. I secretly love the sound of bagpipes, so it was actually a beautiful sound for me to hear.
I was amazed by the creativity of the local businesses as they presented their parade floats, cars and golf carts decked out in St. Patrick’s décor. There was one SUV advertising for their gym, and they were blaring an Irish felt song, “I’m shipping up to Boston”, by Dropkick Murphys, which is actually played by an American Celtic rock band. My son, his friend and I were probably the only ones in the crowd actually jumping around and dancing to the punk song. It just brought us into the moment of the holiday in a fun gravitating way.
I just loved seeing my son’s face as he watched the different things passing by. It grabbed his attention as he commented on each event in the parade. He often complimented the creativity that people brought to it. He also reassured me the fun that was he was having. I just knew that this parade was one that he would remember.
We saw lots of different things. There were dogs, stuffed leprechauns, old cars and lots of people handing out advertisements. We even got coupons for free Italian ice. We saw my son’s school band in the parade.
Most importantly, the children got bunches of candy. The parade officially ended with the local firetruck blaring its horn, which always startles me.
It was quite the little green parade. It wasn’t very long, but that’s okay. We had fun with friends, candy and the sights of green. The celebration of the holiday became more to us than just a parade on this day. It was “luck” that we were able to bring these two friends together again. The luck of the holiday, the luck of the Irish, regardless we were lucky that they were brought back together again. This is only another page in his chapter of friendships, and the start of growing the fondness of this particular one.