When I was a child, my dad used to call me "Rosie O'Grady." He would say with a smile that I was a definite throwback to the Irish in our family.
Irish? I thought we were exclusively German---we were Baldaufs, for crying out loud---and I presumed his reference to an Irish grandmother was a gentle, silly joke about my personality.
Not too many years ago, after I had achieved my elder status, I discovered I actually did have an Irish great grandmother; her surname was Gallagher.
I wish I had a photo of her, to know if, perhaps, I really WAS a throw-back.
In 1960, I met a man named Moore, Irish in his ancestry and personality, and I had the good sense to marry him. We're still married. Turned out, it was another bit of the "luck o'the Irish," perhaps visited generously upon me by my Irish great-grandmother, who may have known a good Irish man when her great-granddaughter ran into him.
If you had any part in it, Granny Gallagher... Thanks!
R.A.T. (rose about town) St. Pat's Day 2009