Easter

A few weeks ago, being the good practicing Catholics we are (ha ha) my husband and I were on the computer looking up the meaning of Lent, Good Friday, Holy Saturday and pretty much everything that goes along with Easter. Seriously. Why you ask? I was telling him an experience I had in my showroom where during a Friday cooking demonstration 2 guests passed on eating meat. Another guest asked the ladies if they were vegetarians, and they replied, "No, it's Friday during Lent and we can't eat meat." The lady who asked was quite perplexed and asked them to explain to her, as she was a practicing Jew, the meaning of Lent since she wasn't familiar with it. I told my husband, if someone asked me that very question, I am not sure if I would be able to answer them correctly. I would be able to explain Easter, but not the meaning of Lent nor the reason why we can't eat meat on Fridays during Lent. This prompted the online research.

What is Easter and why every year does it seem like a drag planning our Easter holiday? Hell we no what our Thanksgiving and Christmas plans are in September, but this year we found out the Monday prior to Easter what those plans were going to be. I remember as a kid going to my Grandma Olson's house every year for Christmas. Grandma Olson was my mom's mom and she lived 3 hours north of where I grew up. Every year on Good Friday the 4 of us and our dog would pile into whatever mini-van we were donning at the time and made the 3 hour trek up north. Once into town we would stop at the local KFC, pick up a bucket of chicken and go see Grandma. The 4 of us, the dog, and Grandma would sit in her living room watching her old TV. You know, the one with the dial, no remote. My Dad would be drinking his beer hanging out with my brother while they discussed sports. My mom and my grandma would sit in the armchairs arguing over nonsense while drinking their wine. And I would sit on the floor next to the dog, coloring. I'm pretty sure I colored at my Grandma's until I was like 16, it's very therapeutic. Easter Saturday was spent running errands with Grandma while my Dad did odds and ends around the house then Saturday night we would go somewhere fun to eat. Easter Sunday morning rolled around, the 4 of us would go to church while Grandma stayed at home preparing food for the family. My mom's sister's family would usually be at Grandma's by the time we came back from church. It was great! I was the youngest and enjoyed being with my older girl cousins. I enjoyed hearing their college stories and couldn't wait until I grew up. However, once I did "grow up" or more over, get older, we stopped going to Grandma Olson's for Easter. Grandma Olson eventually moved out of her huge home and into a retirement community where an Olson family Easter just wasn't possible.


As the years passed Easter became something that we HAD to celebrate and not something that I looked forward to celebrating. It was just that ol' holiday that came once a year. We even stopped doing Easter dinner, and started doing an Easter brunch. Once I moved out to NY and met my now husband I saw that his family took the same approach. One year we did dinner, the next year a random brunch at a ghetto Queens hotel, the next year a lunch, and so on. However this year was a pleasant surprise of a delightful Easter dinner. As I was downing a beer on our trip to the in-laws house my husband and I were discussing the scenarios we could create to get ourselves in and out as fast as possible. And it turned out no scenarios were needed. Easter was a true delight. Everyone was in a good mood. No yelling, no stress, no tension. Yes, there was the occasional bicker in the kitchen over food, but these bickers were almost funny, humorous in a way. Conversation was light-hearted and not from the twilight zone and even the annual card game of Cuckoo was fun!

The sudden change of events makes me wonder is Easter going to turn back into a holiday I enjoy? Are we going to start planning Easter in January like we plan Christmas in September? Or was this Easter just a freak accident of bliss. Regardless, it was one for the record books.