What a hat-trick! Celebrating St Patrick, mums... and a Slam

PHEW! I’m withered from a weekend of celebrating a triptych of Irishness - St Patrick’s Day, a Six Nations Grand Slam win, and a celebration of the Irish mammy on Mother’s Day.

It’s been more than a decade since I watched a St Patrick’s Day parade from start to finish, so I was delighted with my position on Merchant’s Quay on Friday where the crowd was only one or two deep, the northerly gale stayed away - and when there were no floats on the road for entertainment you could pivot and watch curraghs glide under Mary Elmes bridge.

I was expecting the usual large papier mache floats, local GAA teams showing off their winning cups, and a colourful display from the international communities who have made Cork home.

The smart displays by the army and the fire brigade were to be expected, as was the imaginative and fun display from Cork Community Artlink marking their 30th anniversary.

What I wasn’t expecting was to start welling up at the signs of ‘Thank-you’ from the Ukrainian community in the parade, or to feel emotional because of the warm applause for members of the Pakistani community - their first time in the parade, I understand.

The Mexican community of Cork got my prize for most impressive community group display, with their yellow skirts brightening the grey day, and I was utterly blown away by the biggest marching band I’ve ever seen masterfully striding down Merchant’s Quay, all the way from the University of Florida.

I’ve always been a fan of a big brass brand but the Florida Gators Marching Band stole the show. The sheer number of 350 young people moving in perfect sync was impressive alone, but add in perfectly co-ordinated and pleasing music and it was a total spectacle.

I struggle to wrangle two children to the car, never mind wrangle hundreds of teenagers on an overseas trip. Anyone who has tried to organise a sports team, a work outing or even just a family holiday can appreciate the sheer logistical lift of getting 350 band members plus their instruments transported to Ireland - apparently they came spread across eight flights.

The band had 32 sousaphones - those enormous tuba-like instruments that wrap around the body and weigh up to 23kg. I don’t even want to guess what the excess baggage fees are like.

The smallies’ legs started to wilt just before the final clangs of the vintage fire brigade, but start to finish the parade was a hugely positive outpouring of goodwill and celebration.

The party continued with a carnival atmosphere outside the GPO on Oliver Plunkett Street created by Cork city’s Samba Band’s latest incarnation, The T12 Project, a brass and beats mash-up that got the crowd dancing on the streets and snaking conga lines through the throngs.

If I was a tourist who had come to Ireland for the craic of St Patrick’s Day I would have been utterly thrilled to encounter this massive street party.

Rugby glory

If Friday’s festivities wasn’t enough fun for one weekend, the prospect of a Grand Slam Six Nation victory on Saturday had a lot of rugby fans nervously checking the clock all day long up to the 5pm kick-off.

We went full Irish and had our bacon and cabbage dinner on our knees watching the TV, and needless to say there was a lot of mashed potato on the floor after the final whistle and Ireland became victors on home turf.

I had to remind my eight-year-old to saviour these Irish victories because I have watched decades of disappointing matches when slipping, dropping and basic handling errors kept the silverware at arm’s length.

Hopefully, the team can keep the form until the World Cup so that my son can look back on 2023 like his dad looks back on Italia 90.

Hail Mammy, full of grace

Irish mammies and maternal love were celebrated on Sunday, and apart from the life-long love and attention from our mothers, the deep connection with our mams is possibly because of the biological phenomenon of foetomaternal microchimerism.

During every pregnancy, a foetus sends some of its own cells through the umbilical cord and placenta into the bloodstream of its mother. The foetus’ cells, which are a type of stem cell, lodge in various tissues of the mothers and can be detected decades later.

In mouse studies, foetal cells have been found at sites of injury in the mother’s body, in caesarean scars, mother’s heart and other organs, potentially stimulating healing.

The process happens in reverse too. Children have cells of their mothers living in their body.

It’s not just the Sunday roasts and continuous supply of freshly laundered socks that make us love our mams, we love them on a cellular level.

You will never find the term ‘foetomaternal microchimerism’ on a Hallmark card, but the idea that we may have some of our mother’s cells or children’s cells within us might be a comforting thought for those who have lost a mother or a child and find Mother’s Day a heartache.