New Years Eve, temperatures plummeting, the fire flickers in the grate and a full moon outside about to be eclipsed, partially.A decade is dying and 2010 is upon us, a futuristic date for the present, how lucky are we? (Wasn't Sharon Doherty in Beverly Hills 2010? hee hee) Anyway, a happy, healthy, peaceful New Year to one and all, I raise my glass to each and every one of ye. Pip pip!
Talking of which [the pip pip bit, I mean] my maternal grandfather, Frank, wilder than a bush and as kind as you could meet, used to say, Pip, pip! and also, ' We'll rise again' (him being an old soldier from Sligo) every time he raised a glass, and he raised one often.
He fought as a teenager in the first world war and The Battle of The Somme as an Irish guard, ate dog in the trenches, saw many horrors and survived (physically) without a scratch, apart from one-eared deafness from a shell burst.He came home and fought for Ireland in the war of Independence against the very people he had fought with in the trenches, again without a scratch. Then he fought for De Valera in the Irish Civil War against the very people he had fought with in The War Of Independence, against even his very own brother.He was shot twice, one bullet in each leg.
By the age of 21 he had fought in three wars, been an athlete, won a gold medal in the Olympic trials for the triple jump[alledgedly], played soccer for St.Mary's, Sligo and had his left leg amputated, married his nurse, was destined to spend the rest of his young life drunk on crutches an athlete no more, his later life drunk in a wheelchair, and eventually to die a sane man in the horrors of St. Colman's lunatic asylum in Mullingar. He outlived the wars but the wars outlived him.
To him and all those gone before me I raise a glass tonight and light a candle tomorrow. Pip pip!
Here's a list of other people lighting candles.
Susan at Stony River
Jayne Harnett Hargrove
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