Not much to say other than Happy Easter to everyone. Well, not literally ‘everyone’ but to those you you who read this

Photograph (3)

This offering is a blog reprint from a few years ago, but the message is timeless, so Happy Easter to all.

Much as is the case with Christmas traditions like trees and mistletoe, Easter eggs represent a little bit of paganism tacked on to a Christian ritual. Eggs representing spring, rebirth and all that stuff became intertwined with the tale of the Crucifixion and Resurrection, which is, to the believer, another form of birth. Ta-da. There, aren’t you happy you know that?

So, some random thoughts on Easter that will lead in no particular direction.

I remember being decked out in dorky little bowtie, and even dorkier little blazer so I could accompany my parents to church on Easter morning. It was one of those things children of an earlier era were compelled to do at Easter and Christmas before they were entitled to get to the good stuff. Presents at Christmas, and chocolate eggs at Easter. Little boys and little girls — with pretty hats, clutching tiny plastic purses — dragged off to pay homage to “What Easter really means,” in my mother’s words.easter eggys

“It would make me vomit, to see your Easter bonnet,” sang my brother, before being chastised for vulgarity by my mother who was attempting to stifle a grin while trying to appear stern.

About two days before Easter my mother would put on a large cooking pot and fill it with water and the white eggs bought especially for the occasion. Easter egg coloring was a wonderful time as we gathered around the kitchen table attempting to create multi-hued ovoids that, while falling far short of Faberge splendors, nevertheless satisfied us and looked fabulous when put into a wicker basket and nestled into straw. I wonder if I would still enjoy doing that? Ultimately the rainbow hued eggs were to end up as blue, green or red-tinted egg salad for school lunch sandwiches.

Easter baskets of my recall contained entirely too many jellybeans and not enough chocolate and marshmallow. We also hope for a considerable array of fluffy baby chicks in the purple and yellow baskets. My brother and I, once we had consumed all the chocolate and some of the jelly beans, would then have cock-fights with our chicks. Mine won always since I was older, and my brother would end up in tears since the little beaks were very poorly secured and would end up being amputated around the same time the little black eyes were gouged out. My father would invariably promise to glue the ravaged bits back on, but I don’t recall him ever getting around to it.

Ultimately, Easter ended up being a little disappointing. The largesse wasn’t as impressive as the Christmas haul. And, once you had done the basket thing and the church thing, what were you to do with the rest of the day? Easter dinner was kind of a disappointment, too. My mother always did ham. I didn’t like ham when I was younger. It didn’t seem as festive as turkey. Now I prefer ham, which is a comment apropos of nothing, really.

So, in fear of drivelling on relentlessly, I will simply wish all and sundry a happy Easter.

8 responses to “Not much to say other than Happy Easter to everyone. Well, not literally ‘everyone’ but to those you you who read this

  1. Blessed Easter to you. As a child who did not have many dresses that were fancy (most clothing made by mom and grandma) I was always thrilled to get to wear my store-bought fancy dress, and Easter Sunday was one of those days! I felt like a princess!!

  2. I was never a big fan of easter myself. Especially after making myself sick with eating chocolate one year. For years afterward, I refused to eat milk chocolate. Imagine the horror my poor mom went through every year trying to find dark chocolate easter stuff in the 60s.

  3. Easter memories from me… we never had to go to church or get dressed up. We would awake on Easter morning and *hope* the Easter bunny had not forgotten us (perhaps he did one year?) and I generally would find a basket with my name on it. If we had the eggs to spare we would color them, and my dad would hide them outside and after the hunt we too would have multicolored egg salad for lunch that week. We would always have ham for dinner, and potatoes and rolls. One year I made myself sick from eating too much of the ham fat and I didn’t eat ham again for years, and still don’t love the stuff. I don’t think I’ve ever been to church on Easter. Maybe next year.
    As for dyeing eggs as an adult, it’s a little less fun when you are the one cleaning up the mess. It’s still fun and cute to see a kid dunking his egg and getting excited but after 4 brown ones result from dunking in too many colors in a row it loses it’s appeal pretty quickly. Then comes scrubbing the dye out of your coffee cups…

    • That’s a truly delightful reminiscence, Candace, and it reminds me very much of what ours were like. But my mother did insist we go to church. The church thing ultimately didn’t stick at all.

      • As a mother I can tell you that while I am not generally inclined to attend church I still feel that teaching children about religion is very important, even if it doesn’t ‘stick’ in the long run. My country is still run by Christians, in every level of government, so it is wise to educate oneself about their motivations. Religion, money and power all seem to go hand in hand. Long winded way of saying I’ll be taking my sons to church when they get a little older, at least so they are not completely oblivious to the cultural references and claims of their peers.

  4. I think kids should be exposed to the virtues of the various religions of the world. That would solve a whole slew of problems.

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