Eastering Thoughts

Our childless Easter was rescued for my wife and I by my sister and her fabulous in laws who stepped up to provide a surrogate family since our far flung progeny were unavailable. We gathered in one of their Rhode Island homes for an afternoon completely overloaded with food and fellowship in the very best traditions of Miss Louise. I also partook of my very first serving of sugar free cake which I loved; of course it could have been the sugar saturated vanilla ice cream that accompanied it. I spent the entire afternoon continuously sampling possibly the best chocolate chip cookies ever created. Needless to say I had previously invoked the “holiday exception” codicil in my ketogenic contract.

My Brother in Law, Nephew, and Sister on One Side of the Easter Table

Before getting down to Rhode Island for the afternoon pleasure we had to pass the crucible known as Easter services at church. I love our church and the padres there do a very credible job of being welcoming and open which isn’t always the case for a Catholic church. Holidays are tough because good old Catholic guilt drives hordes to attend mass. The usually well attended church service becomes a packed house where even a well-adjusted sardine would squirm. Father Bob made his usual jibe to the attendance-challenged present by remarking, “We’re open every Sunday, just so you know!”  I think he’d do better at convincing these people to attend regularly if he reeled in the choir and his sermon which almost doubled the length of the service. My wife, good Catholic that she is (as opposed to my ilk), scoffed at this assertion.

My Wife and Some of the Young'uns on the Other

Our over Catholicization put us behind the power curve in terms of leaving on time for Rhode Island, especially since my wife had to create a salad as her contribution to the table’s overabundance. I dutifully volunteered to help and she assigned me tasks she felt were commensurate with my abilities. I almost immediately put a lie to her confidence by spilling red wine vinegar over her newly purchased Easter clothes. To say that episode did not end well would be a vast understatement. She finished the salad by herself after taking emergency laundry rescue operations.

There was a very real sense of generational shift during our Rhode Island afternoon. The younger generation who used to look askance at the adults gathered around the food laden table instead joined in the very lively conversation and, in fact, dominated the discussion for long periods of time. They are either out of school and employed or finishing up a senior year in college. As I looked around and remembered earlier Easters spent with the same group it seemed almost illusionary as not so long ago (at least for me) they were clamoring for Easter baskets instead of wine coolers. They did seem to have bred true though in terms of the excellence of their parentage.

The Soon to be Ex-Chocolate Bunny Pictured With Its Murderer

My sister rose to the occasion as well by presenting me with my Easter chocolate bunny, a tradition she took up from our mother who always took a perverse sense of pleasure of knowing how much I looked forward to receiving it each year, despite my advancing age. This year’s poor creature did not survive the night (my holiday exemption expired at midnight).

Daughter in the Hills of Malibu

As to my own missing offspring, my favorite son checked in briefly from the ancestral home of the ABFA where he was celebrating with those fine people. My Cali-daughter was hiking the Escondido Canyon Waterfall Trail in Malibu with some visiting friends which more than drove home the point that it was a heck of a lot warmer there than here. While the drought effectively killed most of the waterfall they did wind up on Malibu Beach to recover. As I left my own Easter gathering, walking into a rain/snow mix I experienced more than a tinge of envy.

Swinging at the Waterless Waterfall 

Finishing on the Beach