St. Patrick's Day

St. Patrick's Day has become something of an Unholy Day of Obligation, as folks emerge from the chilly muck of March to honor the patron saint of beer drinking. Turns out he did not bring Christianity to Ireland back in the 5th century, but he was instrumental in establishing the church there. He's also the patron saint of "engineers, the dispossessed, and Nigeria", beer drinkers all, I presume.
But this blog is more about personal history. So I decided to let everyone know about it now, as it marks a number of different moments in our lives...
St. Patrick's Day fell on a Sunday 5 years ago, and it was the last time we were all together with dad (see photo), who would pass away the following Thursday on March 21st. It was a good time, as we drank some Jameson's and beer, listened and even danced to some Celtic music. It was a chilly day, so I had a fire on as dad sat there in his down jacket, as anything below 80 degrees was chilly to him. He collapsed the following Thursday in front of the apartment as Ken pulled up to take him to see the doctor.
I looked back since Ken's passing on just when I may have noticed the earliest signs of trouble, and it finally came to me. St. Patrick's Day '04. He met the three of us as we went for the St. Pat's run with a runner's club in Westchester. Who could turn down the free Jameson's? Only much later a symptom that became obvious manifested itself to me for the 1st time. It just struck me as a bit odd then, and it was the fact the Ken just stood in one spot for over an hour without moving, though otherwise enjoying himself. Looking at his last Mexico cave diving trip photos he took a month or so later, there were a large number of shots taken from one spot, and they were clearly not his usual quality. Ken knew he was ill far earlier than he let on.