I have not always been Gerry Regan.
I was born Patrick O’Connor, on February 26, 1953, to a woman I finally met 44 years later. And on learning my first and last name, I was frankly surprised. The name seemed stage-Irish, recalling for me, Harrigan and Hart. For a…Continue
She looked up from her chair by the window, as though she’d just awoken from a pleasant dreamless nap when I walked into her room overlooking the lake. She was fully dressed, her hair washed, looking radiant. At 91, she still cut a dash. ‘Happy New Year’ she beamed, drawing me into a warm, heart-felt hug, surprising me by…Continue