Easter...
I remember growing up my mom would sometimes hide our Easter baskets. She would leave a trail of eggs from our room to the basket, or leave a note that would give us a clue to where our baskets were. We always woke up insanely early, just like on Christmas, and we'd run to our parents room (if there was no trail to follow) and jump in bed to wake them up. We actually did this the entire time I lived at home, not just as kids...something about the tradition stuck.
I remember being a kid and we'd have to take our baskets to church with us where we'd put them under our folding chairs. Mass would be said in the Hall because it fit more people and all I could think about was getting into my basket. At the end of Mass, Father Joe would bless our baskets and then there would be doughnuts. The other kids I went to school with would be there and all of us would have our baskets and our nice clothes on. I vaguely remember playing by the fountain and eating the candy.
This year, I woke up and listened to Mozart's Requiem, which is quite possibly my favorite piece of music. I opened the windows because it's beautiful outside and then I began to read Gabriel Garcia Marquez's "Memories of my Melancholy Whores". In a couple of hours, I'm going to Colonel Zupan's house for a "philosophical dinner" with the jews and athiests of West Point. I don't go to church alone anymore...it's less comforting than it is dissapointing. I can't sit through Mass without wanting my mom's arm around me or my Dad's hand on my neck. I want to give the kiss of peace to my sisters and listen to my old folk hymns...so instead, I have music, literature and athiests. Happy Easter everyone.
I remember being a kid and we'd have to take our baskets to church with us where we'd put them under our folding chairs. Mass would be said in the Hall because it fit more people and all I could think about was getting into my basket. At the end of Mass, Father Joe would bless our baskets and then there would be doughnuts. The other kids I went to school with would be there and all of us would have our baskets and our nice clothes on. I vaguely remember playing by the fountain and eating the candy.
This year, I woke up and listened to Mozart's Requiem, which is quite possibly my favorite piece of music. I opened the windows because it's beautiful outside and then I began to read Gabriel Garcia Marquez's "Memories of my Melancholy Whores". In a couple of hours, I'm going to Colonel Zupan's house for a "philosophical dinner" with the jews and athiests of West Point. I don't go to church alone anymore...it's less comforting than it is dissapointing. I can't sit through Mass without wanting my mom's arm around me or my Dad's hand on my neck. I want to give the kiss of peace to my sisters and listen to my old folk hymns...so instead, I have music, literature and athiests. Happy Easter everyone.
posted by Adam at 9:05 AM
2 Comments:
You should have seen my sad, doomed attempt to organize a Passover Seder this year. It seemed like a simple idea until I realized I don't really know the order of how everything goes. I checked out books from the library, dug up my grandma's haggadah, and read a bunch of stuff on the internet, but the more I learned the more I just sat there thinking, "Dammit, I can't even pass for half a Jew, and I'm trying to recreate a family tradition that never even existed. I'm nothing." I'll blog about it sometime. You'll love it.
Also, how is that book? I saw it in the Book Nook and thought, 'Ooh, Garcia Marquez!" Then I read the plot summary and thought, "Sounds emotionally challenging. Nevermind."
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