To be ordained

One thing I am so happy about with regards to the "big W" next year is that my big brother has agreed to officiate the wedding for us and my sister will be standing up with me as my most awesome Best Lady. Now, neither Damir or I have any idea yet what the actual ceremony might entail, but its already comforting to know that up there at the front with me will be the love of my life, and my brother and sister.

Hopefully the ceremony will be just like the picture above from circa 1978-- my sister on one side, my brother on the other and me in a wedding dress. Though I don't imagine they'll be wearing costumes, but I'd certainly be open to it if they really wanted.

I always wanted to say that my brother married me. Ha! Get it? Try the veal, and don't forget to tip your waitress.

Its very confusing though to understand whether or not my internet ordained brother officiating is actually legal in the Sunshine State (that's Florida). The law states the following:

741.07 Persons authorized to solemnize matrimony. (1) All regularly ordained ministers of the gospel or elders in communion with some church, or other ordained clergy, and all judicial officers, including retired judicial officers, clerks of the circuit courts, and notaries public of this state may solemnize the rights of matrimonial contract, under the regulations prescribed by law.

So the question is: what is a "regularly ordained minister"?

Of course we can go to City Hall and have it done "for real" but it would just be nice to have some clarity on this issue: yea or nay?

On a related note: one more decision is in the books, we picked our photographer. Super exciting!

Green Roots

While I have always known a lot about the Italian side of my family tree, my Irish side has remained largely a mystery. Not that I was too concerned about it, since I have long felt closer to my Italian heritage anyway.

Since I started working with the Irish tourism market, I am constantly being asked where my Irish roots lie. It got me thinking and I started doing a bit of research. A cousin (I think) of my dad has done some intensive family history investigation and I got a hold of her results the other day.

It turns out, my great-great-great grandfather, Edward Hill, was born in 1833 in Ardara, Ireland in County Donegal, in the Northwestern corner of the Emerald Isle.


After coming to the US, he was served in the Union Army during the Civil War where he was badly injured in battle near Roanoke Island, N.C. Scenes from the movie, Gangs of New York come to mind, when the Irish poured off the ships and were immediately drafted to fight in the Civil War in exchange for citizenship. Edward lived most of his post-army days in Boston, in a Soldiers home right around the corner from where I used to live.

This is Ardara then...

And now...

While we don't know for sure what spurned Edward to leave Ireland, certainly we can guess. The Potato Famine was raging during that time and created nearly 2 Million refugees to the US, UK, Canada and Australia.

I find it somewhat interesting that my own path in life keeps pushing me towards the paths of my ancestors, like an invisible string pulling me towards history. I went to study abroad in Italy when I was 16, not to be closer to my roots but because it was the only country that would accept students under the age of 18. I started working with Irish tourism not because of any desire to learn more about this culture (though it is an added benefit), but because it is a good job in my field of choice close to home. On the surface it seems coincidental, but on some level further down it feels more like fate, as though it has been bestowed upon me to be the keeper of our family story, our family journey.