Easter is such an interesting holiday for me. I don't feel especially connected to it and yet I feel obligated to participate. Probably a result of my childhood. What else to blame it on? I don't remember big Easter baskets or decorating eggs. Growing up, other than the religious part, my Easter was new shoes, a fancy dress and not being able to wear either one until church on Easter Sunday. I'd look at those shoes, put them on but not be allowed to wear them to church or anywhere else until Easter. What was so important about waiting for that day? I never understood. As I grew into teenage years, Easter was about getting orchid corsages from doey eyed suitors and sewing my own Easter suit or dress. And still, a fancy dress. Easter was church, but church was every Sunday. Easter church was different though. The songs, the flowers, and the fancy dresses.
My favorite Easter memory is a more recent one, when my sister and I went to Europe, not for the holiday, but over the holiday, a few years ago. The fountains in the German villages were decorated with so many hand-painted egg garlands. I'd never seen such decorations before. The women collect hollowed eggs all year long, hand paint them and prepare garlands for the town squares. Yes, hand painted, not dyed. Such detail and so gorgeous! We happened to be in Vienna for Easter. We went to Easter church in the big cathedral there, St. Paul's I think. All the pomp associated with it gave me goosebumps. And though I'm not Catholic, I welled up when the bishop said Happy Easter in English. Easter Monday is as big a deal as the Friday before Easter. Everything shuts down.
The kids downstairs just woke up to find the Easter bunny had been busy all night. Such joy and laughter rattled the walls, I reveled in their hunt.
It's a bright sunny day, perfect for egg hunts. Here's hoping your basket is full!