My daughter realized a dream when Irish eyes were crying

   Dinner had ended when Katie Holleran’s hero leaned in and asked if she’d like to sing “Danny Boy.’’

       “Oh my God, yes, completely yes,’’ Katie responded feverishly.

       John Dady’s lilting voice started.

    “Oh Danny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling.’’

     John was on key; Katie was off key but warbled nonetheless without regard to her pitch or the musical notes. Neither mattered. She was living the dream just days short of her 40^th birthday.

   Twenty years earlier, our daughter had inserted this line into her life plan: “I want to go to Ireland with the Dady Brothers.’’

  As Mary and I watched from across the dinner table, her lifetime dream was coming true on her first night in Ireland. The moment was striking. Here was my Down syndrome adult daughter singing her grandfather’s signature song in the homeland our forebearers had left. The moment moistened my eyes. Katie reveled in the harmony while I reminisced about the grandfather she never met, a capable tenor and athletic director who routinely rooted for underdogs. Francis John Holleran would have championed Kathleen Barbara.

   This dream actually was 35 years in the making, beginning when the Irish folk duo, John and Joe Dady, played at a Special Olympics party. We had lost our 5-year-old for a moment, or three, when we spotted her at the far end of the stage, swaying back and forth to The Wild Rover. John walked down, stuck his microphone under her chin, and shot us an astonished look.

  “She knows all the words!’’

     Katie already had developed an appreciation for Tommy Makem and the Clancy Brothers, singing along to cassette tapes in the car while we ran errands. She sided with the rebels in Johnson’s Motor Car. She was fond of waiting at the kitchen door in K-K-K-Katy. She crooned to another of her grandfather’s favorites — I’ll Take You Home Again Kathleen.

    Katie soon developed a fondness for the Dadys, who played at her 16^th birthday party. They autographed and gave her a “world tour’’ jacket that she carefully preserved in her closet. When they played a gig, they’d invite Katie to lead the motions in The Unicorn. She even titled her email account “thedadysister.’’

   John held an affinity for Katie too. John and Carol Dady’s sixth child, John Jr., died a few hours after birth from complications of Trisomy 13. It was a trying time, but it explained why the Dady clan unfailingly brandishes such a heightened empathy and compassion for family and friends.

   When we signed up Katie for the Dady tour of Ireland, we asked John to make her a special invitation. On Easter Sunday morning, Katie opened the video. Her heart jumped to her throat when she spotted John’s smiling face.

   “Katie, I’m getting ready for my annual tour of Ireland. We’re flying into Dublin, and we’re traveling to Derry and Belfast and down the Antrim coast. I’m telling you all this,’’ he said, pausing to point at the camera, “because you’re going with me!’’

   Through her tears, Katie managed to say haltingly, “I’m … so … happy.’’

   We recorded this scene and sent it back to John to say thank you.

    His response — “I teared up, too, watching that.’’

   Throughout the summer, her voice began to shriek whenever she told a friend or acquaintance of her pending trip. Her aunt Anne Marie sent her a bucket hat embroidered with Dady Girl. She was undaunted neither by the six-hour delay at the Rochester airport nor the five-hour delay on the same night in Newark. Perhaps it was the luck of the Irish that her international flight was late because she witnessed her beloved Buffalo Bills make an improbable comeback against the Baltimore Ravens. More shrieking.

  On the last night of the 10-day tour, at a singing session, she donned the same jacket she had received 24 years ago and watched John’s face illuminate. He called it a collector’s item and marveled at his autograph and that of his brother Joe, who passed away six years ago.

   With the tour in full swing, she hiked the same streets where Derry Girls was filmed. She climbed 700 feet along a narrow path above the Giant’s Causeway.  She meandered through 6^th Century monastic ruins and danced in Fibber Magee’s pub in Belfast — twice. She belted out The Whistling Gypsy Rover at Crom Castle while John changed the lyrics to “and he won the heart of a Ka-ay-ay-tie.’’

   Our daughter is fond of labeling major events — becoming a godmother, serving as a bridesmaid for her sister, holding her nephew Wes and her niece Vivian for the first time, winning the all-around gold medal at Special Olympics gymnastics — as the “the greatest day of my life.’’ She upgraded this Ireland excursion to “the greatest time of my life.’’

    Our memories kept returning to the first night at dinner that led to the “Danny Boy’’ duet.

   “You’ll come and find the place where I am lying.’’

    “And kneel and say an Ave there for me.’’

    Every parent wants their child to be happy. Katie’s lifelong dream was realized. It was blurry, but wonderful to watch through the tears.

            Morristown native Jim Holleran is a retired teacher and sports editor from Rochester. Reach him at jimholleran29@gmail.com or view past columns under “Reflections of River Rat’’ at https://hollerangetsitwrite.com/blog/