Posting this on Holy Saturday, because it just doesn’t get enough love.
It’s funny, thinking about what to write this week, I was musing about Easter itself and how little I do to celebrate it.
When I was a kid, there were the traditional egg hunts, but then the siblings and I grew out of it and now, if we’re lucky, we’ll get a little chocolate sculpture. (To be fair, we are all at an age and income level where we can buy our Easter chocolate ourselves, if we so desire. It’s just not quite the same.) Then Easter became the longest of long weekend. For a while, I used those four days to go to New York and see shows, but I bought a house last fall and I can’t afford it this year.
The point is, we were never religious in my family, and aside from that short period when I was part of a church choir and animated masses every other week or so, I never really spent time with religious people. I sort of fooled myself into thinking people don’t celebrate Easter anymore, unless they have kids or are really into the aesthetic. I was going to write about that, in what likely would have been an embarrassing-in-hindsight know-it-all tone.
But yesterday, hanging in my living room and nursing a low-grade headache, I saw a couple of police cars on the street corner. They were safe-proofing the street for a group of maybe 30 people, the vast majority of whom were holding crucifixes. It was an honest-to-God, city sanctioned (or at least police sanctioned), cross path. Walking in front of my house. Proving that my small secular bubble is not, in fact, the whole world.
So, religious or secular, chocolate or crucifix or travel or none of the above, have a good weekend. Enjoy the pastel colors. The weather is nice over here, hope it’s the same where you are and that you get to go outside and do something you enjoy. Or stay inside and do something you enjoy.