I remember being so jealous of my mother on St. Patrick’s Day. She had a closet of clothes she had collected for years in the color green. I had some old, crappy, neon green, ripped sweatshirt. That was the extent of my collection… and she wouldn’t let me borrow a single piece.
I got angry, pouted, and retired to the other room. I remember her saying, “Someday you’ll be old like me and have plenty of green to wear on St. Patrick’s Day.”
Over the years, I did collect many different grassy garments. I remember seeing this photo of my mother wearing a huge emerald green dress complete with crinoline, a stiff or structured petticoat designed to hold out a woman’s skirt, popular at various times since the mid-19th century. She was big in the theater in her younger days before becoming sick with Chron’s Disease. She always had on some crazy or over the top outfit and was always overdressed.
My mother loved to be spectacular and bigger than life. She had a loud laugh that was contagious. Often, I was embarrassed by her loud guffaw, and at her speaking to strangers at restaurants, churches, and stores. My mom is Irish, but she acted like she was directly FROM Ireland, donning an Irish accent when it suited her. I was frequently mortified.
Years later she wore the dress in the freezing cold MN weather to a party, completing the look with nothing less than green glitter heels. Frozen sidewalks and high heels don’t mix, and Mom fell on the ice and broke her hip all in the damn name of glamor.
Later, I remember ironing the dress at my best friend’s house. I mended it from the fall on her sewing machine, getting it ready for one last performance. It would be her last time wearing it. Or? Maybe her “forever” time wearing it. I guess it’s how you look at it, I choose the latter.
The letters that filled in her casket are from many of you reading this article, dear friends for years. People all over the world wrote beautiful letters to my mom. One night, during a visit with her, she confided a feeling of worthlessness because she was so sick, weak, and feeble. And you all rose to the occasion, sending thousands of letters to us upon hearing of her condition. I want you to know that I printed out every single one on colorful paper, and placed them all into her coffin. I want you to know that I’ll always remember that. Thank you.
Many of you complimented me on the dress I wore to sing the National Anthem before the COVID-19 shutdown. It was more meaningful to me than many of you realized. I wanted to share the story of why I cried before I sang. When I was getting ready backstage I realized what I was wearing; behold the power of the Green Dress.
Green has a lot of positive power. It signifies GO while it’s scarlette antonym can make your life, love, and relationships come to a screeching halt.
So the next time you find yourself seeing red over what someone else has, see “green” instead. Or remember this Golden take home: Jealousy never takes us down the yellow brick road.
Green has a lot of positive power: it signifies lush growth, abundance, and permission to GO. The next time you find yourself seeing red over what you THINK someone else has, choose to see “green” instead. Or remember this Golden take home: Jealousy never takes us down the yellow brick road.
Ps, Mom, this one’s for you. https://www.instagram.com/p/CGBhCIRHfny/
Special Thanks to Gina Kegel, Senior Columnist at The Los Angeles Tribune for cleaning up my work! #ThisChickGivesCredit XO