Easter

Easter is springtime, and I always think about family, I think more so at this time than other holidays, which is a bit odd perhaps. When I was little Easter was wearing white tights and going to Church with Auntie Lou and PopPop, banks of white lilies and purple hyacinths. I love the way they smell, sweet and clean and like sunshine. Pretty dresses. Big baskets on the tables with plastic eggs full of jellybeans, peeps, chocolate bunnies (I especially love white chocolate bunnies), Easter pigs from O'Sheas (best ever- dark chocolate with creamy coconut), Russel Stovers filled eggs (mmmm....maple) and the little wrapped chocolates that looked like footballs (but were eggs). Mother would always decorate the baskets up with ribbons and grass, little pipecleaner chicks, crocheted bunny egg covers- one was pink with fuzzy white ears, one- for some reason- was black/red/purple. The bunny band would march along the iron chandelier, we would have dyed eggs set out. Easter dinner was clove-scented ham, potato salad, little fresh rolls, sharp mustard...

Later on, when I was older, we would go to visit Barbie in Charleston~ I would always want it to be warmer than what it was... but the flowers would be out, we would go to the plantations and the battery, I'd beg to go to the beach. One memorable Easter Mom Mom passed away- we spent Easter Sunday driving home in the car, eating soybeans (Mum had bought them at the GNC or something) cause nothing was open... that night we ate at Long John Silver's in Windber (I remember looking longingly out the window at Dunkin Donuts next door, but I knew better than to ask...)

When Grendel and I lived on the Island, we would go to sunrise service on the beach. He was baptised in the sea- it was beautiful and slightly pagan (ok, it was *very* pagan)... the service would begin with Chuck Davis playing the drums in the dark, telling the story of the creation of the world in his melodic voice... they always timed it right so the 'let there be light' part was at daybreak, where a piper would play 'morning has broken'. Indescribably beautiful. The church service would begin- Joe used the high Episcopal service- for the baptismal the liturgical dancers- dressed in white with crowns of living green vines and flowers- would gather water from the sea in clay jars. There was a low round clay basin, and the children where baptised in this while the dancers circled them and the priest spoke in a mixture of English and Latin. At the end R.C. West - the retired priest, an ancient black man with one of those low rumbly voices that
God must have- sang 'Go Tell it on the Mountain'. It was beautiful and magical and part of the world and everything in it.

Later, Barbie and I would go home to Pennsylvania to cook dinner for and celebrate Easter with Mum and Daddy. We'd make all the old favorites in the basement kitchen, Grendel would make many trips up to O'Sheas for candy. Daddy would hide eggs- some had jelly beans or candy, some half dollars, one a slip of paper 'HA HA Try Again'. We still have that slip of paper- it is framed and hangs by the kitchen sink, a reminder of humor and love and is excellent advice.

This morning I am having coffee in my studio while I write on evie. The sun is shining, the doors to the house are open, the flowers are overflowing the yarden. Grendel is at his grandma's, family is far and wide, and the dogs are happily chasing about. I am sitting in the sun, listening to the birds and the dogs, watching the beautiful shadows cast by the leaves. It is Spring time, a new year, and all is right with the world.