My grandmother’s grandparents came from Ireland during the time of the troubles, when the British came and imperialized the Irish. My great-great-grandparents thought they were better off without mentioning it. Things were so bad back home that they just wanted to move on. We don’t have traditions or heirlooms, but we still are proud of being Irish. Material items don’t mean much considering that my family all made it here safely and together. Once in Chicago, they forgot their old lives and planted their roots in America. They didn’t bring a lot, but one thing my grandma recalls are the pies that my grandmother made whenever her grandmother went over. The most frequent pie was apple, something we always have during our Thanksgiving dinners. It wasn’t an Irish recipe, just one she often made. I never really thought about why we had this every year, it’s a standard pie that a lot of people ask, but apparently, we have a family recipe. It’s nothing special, but it’s one of the few things that we know about my Irish family. I wish there was more to my story, but at least I can sit at Thanksgiving dinner, eating apple pie, and have the knowledge they that achieved their goals. They lived and died free.

– TNP

Relationship:  Great-grandchild of im/migrant or more Great-grandchild of im/migrant or more