I never celebrate Easter.  Since it’s supposed to be a religious holiday and I’m not in anyway religious, I choose not to celebrate. As a kid my Mother celebrated anything and everything remotely religious due to her strict Catholic upbringing and education. I had no choice in those days so I went along as best I could but only as far as partaking of the more secular side of things . . . chocolate.  My Easter memories as a child are all about candy and eggs but not much religion.

My  Father was a living and breathing agnostic who side stepped religious matters religiously but even he couldn’t side step all of the holidays.  Another of my fondest memories of Easter was the year my parents bought my sister and I white rabbits.  They were all cute and fluffy and I clearly remember trying to get one of those little buggers from beneath our old refrigerator on Easter morning.  They eventually grew up to be rather large adult bunnies forcing my Dad to build a large hutch in the backyard to house them. There was always a stream of complaints from him about feeding the damn rabbits or cleaning out the damn cage etc. etc. etc.  Who knew it would all end in murder.

One lovely summer day we returned home from playing with some of the neighborhood kids just in time for supper.  We were seated at the table ready to dig in when I found out just how much my Dad really didn’t like those rabbits.  He had dispatched the little darlings earlier in the day and they were placed on the table as the entree.  Needless to say my Mother, Sister, and I fled the scene with my Father left sitting there with a puzzled look on his face. He just didn’t get it at all.

I still don’t celebrate Easter and I never eat rabbits under any circumstances.  It’s  creeps me out to this day. 

Have you ever had a really long term close personal friend?  They’re a rare gift and in most cases are never really appreciated until their gone.  My best friend was named Dick and he passed away approximately 15 years ago.  He is partially responsible for another of my crazier Easter memories from our childhood. I’ve written in the past about the 1955 Birdville Elementary School Easter Egg Hunt fire.  It’s a really funny story that I may repost again in it’s entirety on another day.  Let it be said that Dick and I traumatized the Easter memories of a entire elementary school that year.  A small lit cigarette turned into a raging inferno that burnt down a two acre field next to the school where the teachers and parents had hidden all of the Easter eggs.  The field was burned, the eggs were cooked, and so were we.  We paid a really heavy price for just a few minutes of stupid.

So now you understand my hesitation to celebrate even the silly secular side of this holiday.  I hope you all enjoy your Eater celebration with your family and friends in whatever manner you choose to celebrate it.  For me it’s just another fun day here in paradise.  Pass the chocolate please.