Jokingly I asked Kay if she was going to color Easter eggs for Sunday. “NO”, she said, then paused for a while and said, “Maybe I should”. Her Grandson of 23 and his wife are coming over for Easter Dinner and after mulling the thought over, Kay said “I’ve always colored Eggs for the grand-Kids and why should I stop!”
This got us talking about how we each greeted Easter with our kids.From Colored Eggs to Baskets of Candy to trying to find that right Chocolate Easter Bunny. One that wasn’t hollow but solid.
I think back on Easter when I was a Child and remember how exciting it was. Waking up and seeing the Easter basket along side my bed and with the help of my Brother and Sister taking the basket and start looking for Easter Eggs that my parents had so easily hidden around the house. Then getting all dressed up and having to go to Church and the fear of leaving my Easter Basket alone in the house, wondering if all that candy would be there when I got home.
I don’t know when I gave up on believing in the Easter Bunny, it was probably when I started school at St. Benedict’s in Chicago and was introduced to the religious meaning of Easter and why after all these years of receiving tons of candy it abruptly stopped, and the candy was replaced with clothes I really did’t care to wear. Why should one belief be replaced with another. Shouldn’t they be both adapted in to Easter traditions. I really hated to give up my anticipation of waking up to a basket full of candy. But as I got older my desire for candy dissolved into a deeper belief in the true meaning of Easter. Being an Alter Boy had a lot to do with that and having the responsibility of my position on the Alter and with the priest. I was an Alter Boy for the 8:AM service and had to go home afterward and change so I could be with my Parents and Siblings for the 10:AM service, and as I got older I would become astonished at the Men and especially the Women who came to Church on Easter Sunday. The men really never looked different for Easter, but the Women , that was a whole different story. The Women who came to church during the day or on any given Sunday would be dressed in their Dark clothes, Black Shoes and Heavy Opaque stockings and that familiar Babushka on their head or a lace Doily pinned to their hair, were transformed into this beautiful Woman on Easter Sunday Morning and most Sociable towards other Women who normally she would not even cast a glance at. Coming up to the Alter for Communion and kneeling down as the priest and I would approach them I would wonder why on this day would they choose to be so beautiful and so social towards others in the church, and then come Monday Morning come back to church looking so down trotted and poor in attire.
It took me a long time to understand older people, maybe because I’m old now myself, and I still have the beliefs that were taught me by my parents. Dress codes have changed over the past 70 years, so has traditions, and one’s love and beliefs in religion that they were raised with are still inherent in us. It’s a shame some have chosen not follow them.