04.15.08
Gabh Mo Leithscéal or Pardon Me
It was a lovely August day in Tierlaheen, Co. Clare, Ireland. I was out roaming the farm. I liked to stand on the gate and gaze over at the calves in the field. My grandmother and an older crowd were gathered inside reminiscing. I could hear the laughter. It was kind of funny to this 13 year old “Yank”.
I had grown up hearing Gaelic phrases spoken but I had never learned the language myself. I would ask my grandparents for a few words every so often. It never took. I have always loved my name. No one could ever say that I wasn’t Irish for my name is Gaelic. Although, I never did like that it only meant “girl”. For heaven’s sake, I am a girl. Why would my mother just name me “girl”? Still, I love the name that represents my family’s heritage. With marriage, I’ve come to appreciate it all the more. Good Lord, my husband did his best to wipe my Irishness away with the generic last name of Johnson! I hold onto Colleen dearly now and forever more.
Still, on this August day long since passed, I didn’t know any Gaelic. Again, I had heard phrases, prayers, songs and even read the signs in Gaelic but never knew it myself. I could hear them all clattering away inside as I started to walk back towards the house. I ventured in and took a seat. Now, phrases were flying fast. I almost lost interest in it all.
That is, until, they spotted one of their friends approaching. It wasn’t hard to miss. He was coming up the road driving his noisy donkey cart. They all looked at me and started chuckling. I should have known better than to trust this group of chuckling elderly Irishmen and women! My grandmother told me that when he came through the door that I should greet him with a Gaelic welcome. I fell for it hook line and sinker!
Wow! They were going to teach me a welcome in Gaelic. I was up for the challenge. What would it be? They all laughed and then taught me the phrase. It was pretty easy.
As he opened the door, he spoke the traditional, “God bless all in this house”. I then responded with my Gaelic welcome phrase, “Póg mo thóin“. His face grew red and everyone started roaring with laughter. I sat completely puzzled.
Well, the joke was on me. These old birds, my grandmother included, had just taught me how to tell someone to “kiss my arse”. Isn’t that lovely? So, this is the Gaelic phrase that has stuck with me. Just about the only phrase that sticks with me except for the overly familiar ones such as Sláinte! It’s a funny memory to have and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
If you’d like to learn more Gaelic, you can check out these two great websites http://www.irishgaelictranslator.com/ and http://english.glendale.cc.ca.us/gaelic.html.
Colleen M. Johnson, CMJ Office
Lisa said,
April 15, 2008 at 6:23 pm
Your grandmother’s humor reminds me of my grandfather and his relatives. Always the jokers - and usually the joke was on someone else, like a naive little girl like me!
I’m so glad that you have a great Irish first name. Colleen is a pretty name -I always thought it meant “pretty girl” instead of just “girl”. Don’t forget, though, that Johnson is not so generic - it’s a very common Swedish name.
Thanks so much for sharing your story.
Lisa
Small-leaved Shamrock
A light that shines again
100 Years in America
Janice said,
May 1, 2008 at 2:36 am
Colleen,
Somehow I knew there was going to be an Irish prank somewhere in your story! Thank you for the fine laugh.
Janice