As St. Patrick's month draws upon us, a short story about growing up Canadian with an Irish father.

I wrote this story three years ago at the invite of a local theatre group in our area who were celebrating an anniversary in several ways in 2017. One of their plans was to honour the Irish heritage that is such a large part of the city of Ottawa, the area south of the city that is known as the rurals and especially the legendary Ottawa Valley. They contacted me and asked if I would write a short piece talking about growing up in our rural area with an Irish influence, thanks in large part to my late father. What a fun exercise. I put a few words down, it's very short. Perhaps some of it will sound familiar to you. My Dad, like many of your fathers, was quite a character. Right off the boat from Dublin, Ireland, he made Canada his home. He's been gone a long time, maybe that's partly why I enjoyed this so much. I hope you do as well. Gidday!

GROWING UP CANADIAN IN AN IRISH HOME

ITR is hitching a ride on the many celebrations scheduled throughout 2017 in and around our city and the rurals. A significant part of the history of the region of Ottawa-Carleton is the Irish heritage that played such a huge part of the ‘Ottawa mosaic’ as stated by ITR’s Director of their Community Outreach Sheila Dubyk.

One of their next plays titled, ‘Lafferty’s Wake’ is a comedic look at what many of us with Irish roots have probably had some experience with, the celebration of life that is an Irish wake. Given that I have a son named Rory there’s a further connection to a play that is set in a locale called Rory’s Pub but the reason for my written contribution is more widespread and reflective of growing up Canadian in a somewhat Irish house and environment.

My late father, Noel ‘Patrick’ Maguire was born and raised in Dublin. He was a fiercely proud Irishman who made Canada his home specifically for us on the Kars Road which was situated perfectly between all the villages that mattered most to my brothers Mike, Sean and I, Kars, Manotick and Osgoode. My mother, Sarah Maguire (nee Payne) has Irish roots that were fostered through her youth growing up north of Quebec City in a beautiful village called Stoneham and as a result I feel as young boys we got the best of the cultural experience, French Canadian, Irish and the pure Canadiana of the day in the 1960’s and 70’s, Expo 67, the iconic Summit Series, the building of the CN Tower to name a few. Can I channel my memories of my youth through my father’s Irish influence, absolutely I can.

Dad smoked a pipe, had the Irish accent although less so to us who spoke to him daily but friends always remarked on it; he was a brilliant man who as the expression goes, seized the day. The Irish culture in our house began with the music. My parents had several albums of the Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem who next to U2 are maybe the greatest musical exports of Irish music. The songs were of rebellion, of whiskey, of love for family, the land and the people. It was impossible to not absorb their melodies and meaning and impact on Irish life and I saw this through Dad and I was a sponge who took to it all. Dad disliked ‘When Irish eyes are smiling’ ‘Danny Boy’ (not even written by an Irishman) and various other what he called pseudo Irish tunes that didn’t foster the true Irish spirit of what his family had gone through.

In a time when they did not have much money our parents found a way to take the five of us to Ireland in 1968 and again in 1978. Those visits are indelibly etched in my mind as we met relatives, learned about our history, our family and the country’s history and there’s no other way to state it other than the Irish culture we were immersed in through Dad was every bit as significant in those days as it was growing up Canadian. Our school life at St. Leonard Catholic School in Manotick had Irish connections woven through the very foundation. Kelly’s, O’Brien’s, McEvoy’s, Dewans, Doyle’s, Daly’s and many more dotted every class. My family settled on St. Monica’s as our church largely due to the instant friendship they struck up with the Parish Priest, Fr. William (Bill) Nugent who occasionally would join us for dinner and who later taught my brothers and I at St. Pius High School. Every aspect of our lives had Irish connections or overtones and it seemed totally normal and I welcomed it then and still do.

Our family embraced other aspects of the Irish culture. Porridge was a staple for breakfast; my mother who is an excellent cook would make a phenomenal Irish stew; I could eat potatoes morning, noon and night and still can. March 17th was always a special day in our house. Dad liked a drink, as did my mother. We all grew up enjoying a beverage and when of age, perhaps the odd time prior we enjoyed a toast with the ‘water of life’ Irish whiskey. Dad’s language regularly included Gaelic expressions especially if he was angered and we did not see that often however his absolute and unequivocal passion for his family and love for his sons meant he made a point to step in any time there was a perceived physical wrong against one of us. And that image, his tuque pushed back on his forehead, zippered over-boots on, his mackinaw jacket, his frame slightly bent over as he went out the door sliding his pipe into his back pocket, as he exclaimed, ‘right! This shit has to cease!’ And off he went to ensure the trouble ended immediately and it always did.

I really like Sheila’s call above of the ‘Ottawa mosaic.’ Fair to say the Maguire’s of the Kars Road had an ‘Irish mosaic’ in our house and our lives. It was a cultural blanket that dropped over us like when you fluff out a sheet, snap it to its full length and it slowly drops, softy but discernibly on to the embracing people below. I’m proud of that heritage and very happy to have such a huge part of the Irish culture in our community still.

Post script ITR; my mother and my late Father were huge parts of ITR and in fact it was a conversation in the early 1980’s that my parents had with the group including President Award recipients of 1990 & 91, Ross and Edie Batstone, where my mother exclaimed that the word Manotick which is Ojibwa translates to Island in the River. After further discussion the vote was taken and Isle in The River Review Theatre Co. was born now known as Isle in the River or ITR. I know how much they both enjoyed their time with the group, the many memories and plays they were involved in. My father even acted in one although he may have espoused the quote from the great Irish playwright Sean O’Casey, ‘All the world’s a stage and most of us are desperately unrehearsed.’ Dad took his shot at least, of that there was no doubt. Congratulations to all currently involved in this outstanding community group. I wish you continued happiness, success and joy.

Liam Maguire