The Irish Afro

My mother is the youngest of ten. I am the youngest of 36 first cousins on her side of the family.  Being from a family of this size is a blessing and a curse. A blessing because there is strength in numbers. Because if you need someone to quit a job for you, there's an aunt you can call for that. Because you can go anywhere in the Midwest and have a place to stay for the night.  Because laughter is best shared with a chorus. And because comfort, when you really need it, comes abundantly.

On the curse side is all the suffering. It never seems to end. The knowledge that your favorites are only yours for a little while, before God wants them more. Begging God to let you have them for a little bit longer and not to be in any pain while they're still within grasp. Watching heartaches over and over, being powerless to stop it.

We still carry on the genes and spirit of those who've gone before us. Round chins, the gift of story telling and a propensity for having a drink in each hand - to name a few. But my favorite of all - The Irish Afro - not just a tell tale sign that you hail from the Nixon Clan who still have ties in Ireland, but an attitude and presence.  What, pray tell, is The Irish Afro? Let me show you:

The Irish Afro is shameless and tameless

Yet, culturally refined at times

And wild. Always so wild.