I am almost 100% Irish (which most people could probably tell just from my pale skin). My mom's parents are both 100% Irish, and my dad's parents are almost 100% Irish, and the rest is a little bit of German. St. Patrick's Day is a day of celebration for me, and not because it's another reason to drink insane amounts of alcohol (like it is for most people that love St. Patrick's Day), but because I am extremely Irish, and it's a day to celebrate being Irish.

Most people get more excited for Green Beer Sunday, or for Parade Day than they do for the actual day of St. Patrick's Day. Because those days are more about drinking than celebrating the actual day. But not me, I wait for the actual day.

St. Patrick's Day is not just a great day for me because I'm Irish. I love St. Patrick's Day because one of my favorite people on this planet was born on St. Patrick's Day. St. Patrick's Day is my Pop's birthday (my mom's dad). And this year on St. Patrick's Day, he will be turning 91. Let me repeat that: 91. Amazing right? Yes, amazing. I know.

Now, I'm turning 21 in a couple months, which means when I was born, my Pop was 70 years old. A lot of people aren't as lucky as I am. A lot of people's grandparents pass away not long after 70, and they don't remember of lot of memories with their grandparents. But for all of my 21 years on earth, my Pop has been in my life. He's not just a memory, or a collection of stories that my family members can tell me, or a photo album of old pictures. I get to see my Pop, all the time. He lives less than three minutes away from me, and I can see him whenever I want. I am truly, truly lucky.

My Pop is 100% Irish, and his birthday is on St. Patrick's Day. You really can't get any more Irish than that. And each St. Patrick's Day, our family gets together to celebrate more than just being Irish. We get to celebrate this amazing man, who we have been so lucky to have in our lives for this long.

I love my Pop. We all do. Our whole family revolves around this one man, who brings us all together. The man who tells the best stories (even if we ask him to tell them over and over again for the billionth time). The man who gives the best hugs, that warm you from the inside out starting at your heart. The man who started the greatest traditions, like going to camp every summer, for all of us to pass on from generation to generation. The man who loves my mom. Who taught my mom how to be caring, and calm, and patient. This man is a man worth celebrating. This man, is my Pop.