Saint Patrick’s Day, a day of merriment for those corned beef and cabbage fans across the globe.

Not just the birth of the shamrock shake or a day to binge watch all the “Leprechaun” movies. You wear green and count leaves of clovers. You drink beer (or Sprite for you kiddos). With both religious and cultural roots, the day serves to commemorate Saint Patrick, patron saint of Ireland. There’s even some controversy around the holiday as some believe the tradition has morphed into a time where foreigners misrepresent Irish culture and “commercialise the event.” 

But for me, it also serves as a reminder of time passed. Of how much has changed.

I recall being in Chicago two years prior my first-year at Drake, as the river was dyed green and people flooded the streets. I recall one year ago, scrambling to get home after finding out that classes would be online for an extended two weeks after spring break. 

This year’s celebration is naturally going to look a bit different, with the global pandemic of it all. 

I was supposed to be 21 finally this time around, and I mourn that lost chance. This isn’t meant to trivialise the greater loss and tragedy that has been Covid-19, but it is to say I think we can hold more than one type of grief. And there is something to be said for all the mundane moments, fun holidays and small moments that can never come to pass now.

But I am not the same person I was my first-year. For starters, I am far better dressed and I also get far less sleep. But in all seriousness, as we look around and see how different things are, I hope we still allow ourselves the grace to find joy in the little moments.

My lovely roommates and I are still planning to do something together in the safety of our apartment. I didn’t get to have this great group of quarantine buddies a year ago, so I want to make sure I do take a moment and still cheers to that.