This post is being written on Easter Sunday and should be considered a tongue-in-cheek horror story from my youth. It will also explain to readers why I have never celebrated Easter as would be expected. In my early childhood I was always confused by my parents when my mother claimed Easter was a religious holiday but the rest of the family loaded me up with chocolate bunnies, candy eggs, and plastic eggs in the yard containing quarters. I was greatly confused but truly enjoyed all the candy that eventually rotted out a few of my teeth.
When I reached the age of ten they decided to take a different approach to Easter. I still got all the candy and eggs but they added a few things to the mix. I received four baby chicks that immediately ran behind the refrigerator and refused to come out. Eventually they did but within two weeks they had all passed away and never even got an offer of an Easter resurrection. I was truly sad but I hadn’t had time to develop much of a relationship with them. I did give them a silent prayer and a beautiful burial ceremony as my father tossed them into a trash can. I forgot to mention one other thing. Along with those chicks I was also gifted two small white baby rabbits which I immediately fell in love with. They were so damn cute and cuddly.
Now, let’s jump ahead three years. Those cute little bunnies had grown into two huge white rabbits that were so big we were forced build a hutch in the yard for them to live in. I still loved them both but my father did not. He constantly complained about them being a nuisance but I wouldn’t let him sell or give them away. I came home from school one afternoon prepared to do my homework and then have dinner. As I sat down at the table I immediately noticed a large plate of steaming meat and was told by my father to “eat up”. I asked what kind of meat it was and he told that the two rabbits would no longer be a problem. He’d killed my bunnies and served them to me for dinner. Needless to say I went to bed hungry that night. Happy Effing Easter!
That pretty much erased Easter from the list of holidays I chose to celebrate. Even now I cringe a little when my spouse has the grandchildren over for their annual Easter egg hunt. They love finding the hidden eggs especially the plastic ones with money in them. My only requirement is “No Bunnies or Chicks” chocolate or otherwise. I’d have terrible nightmares for a week.
I never celebrate Easter. Since itâs supposed to be a religious holiday and Iâm 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 couldnât 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 didnât 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 didnât get it at all.
I still donât celebrate Easter and I never eat rabbits under any circumstances. Itâs creeps me out to this day.
Have you ever had a really long term close personal friend? Theyâre 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. Iâve written in the past about the 1955 Birdville Elementary School Easter Egg Hunt fire. Itâs a really funny story that I may repost again in itâs 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 itâs just another fun day here in paradise. Pass the chocolate please.
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