The Gift of the Mortify

I sent my family members a lovely ornament, which, as it turns out, commemorated our family trip to Kilkenny.

Except, none of us, save our almost son in-law Ed, has ever been to Kilkenny, and he went a dozen years ago.

Thanks to my creeping farsightedness, I misread the ornament when I ordered it, cheerfully engraved with “Biskupic Family Trip 2024” .

We have been to Killarney, a memorable little city that provided the base for so many of our grand adventures.

We loved Killarney. We’d recognize Killarney if we saw it pictured on an ornament and it would spark all kinds of happy memories.

I’m sure Kilkenny is a nice city too, but we never came within 100 miles of it.

Embarrassing? Yes! Unprecedented? No.

A few years ago, our son Vinnie sent us a sweet postcard from Rome. In it, he recalled the last time we had been there. The card conjured up images of the places we’d been — the Sistine Chapel, St. Peter’s Basilica, Trevi Fountain.

He signed it Holy Hugs!

We loved the postcard. In fact, it still has a place of honor on our refrigerator. It cracks us all up every time we see it.

Because, neither Vince nor I have ever been to Rome. We’ve never even been to Italy. We do, however, enjoy pasta and a nice glass of vino.

And that’s not all…

My mom once gave me a Christmas ornament to commemorate the birth of her first grandchild. It read “Baby’s First Christmas 1986” and it hangs on our tree today.

But my mom’s first grandchild, the baby honored by the ornament, was born in July of 1987.

The ornament is still beautiful, though, and it honors Charlie.

These things happen.

I just wish they wouldn’t have happened to me.

The Kilkenny Ornament earned its place in family lore and on various Christmas trees. My loved ones will chuckle at it for years to come.

Holy hugs!