Easter Sunday: Our Reawakening

Whatever faith, religion, or spiritual belief system we humans follow, one thing that binds us together is our response to the changing of the seasons. The transition from winter into spring is a particularly powerful one for some of us because it seems to encapsulate the transition from sleep (winter) to being awake (spring) or perhaps even more powerful is a transition from death to a re-birthing.

Whichever you choose, it can’t be ignored that the whole of nature around us just feels progressively better as we transition into the warmer weather from the depths for the cold.

When I was really young, my family did the whole “hide-the-Easter-eggs-in-the-living-room-and-let-us-find-them” trip and there might have been some “special-occasion-dinners” that had us eating in the dining room instead of the kitchen, but all of that died before I hit adolescence. Easter was rarely observed after that.

When I had kids, I wanted a restart. A new set of traditions. The Easter celebration was one of those traditions. We did 4 (count ’em FOUR) days of Easter observance. Every year. Good Friday through to Easter Monday found me hiding eggs in the living room and then sitting back and letting the kids “go for it”. Once or twice, I got evil and hid the eggs in the basement instead of the living room. They figured that one out pretty quick. Another time I heaved a pile of eggs all over the backyard instead of in the house. They caught that change pretty quick, as well. Great memories of small bodies flinging themselves around! I don’t recall any squabbles or arguments happening. When the melee was over, the kids would swap back and forth until they seemed satisfied with how much they’d gained. And then we’d mellow out until the “turkey wrapped in bacon” was ready to devour. Great memories. Years later, when the kids had moved on, I was cleaning the house and I happened across a single chocolate egg that had never been found. Apparently, it’s composition was such that normal decay processes didn’t touch it.

Yes, I cried for the memories that sprang up in me. The togetherness that I felt on those Easter days came back to me…like a tidal wave. Later years, as our work schedules became more and more divergent, we were pretty much always able to keep the Easter tradition alive. My new home was smaller than my prior one but we did manage one or two egg hunts with the grand-kids. The the COVID hit and it all shut down.

Two years. We talked it out and we all decided that being together for those days was not in the family’s best interest. Two long years. This year, two of my brood won’t be coming to Easter. COVID and COVID vaccines have caused them to change their plans. BUT, two WILL be coming over. The menu will have changed to accommodate my work schedule. It doesn’t matter to me. We will be together again. We will enjoy each other’s company. We will laugh, joke, and catch up. That, to me feels as close to coming out of death into a rebirth as it gets. Happy Easter to everyone.