Sunday, April 12, 2009
I could never get my arms around Easter. It begins with lent where one has to give up something they love for 40 days to prove to the world that they can suffer. This tradition had to be invented by a man who didn't know what it was like to stay up all night with a sick child. In Armenian culture, it is typical to give up all dairy products, meat, poultry and sweets for lent. My mother would do this and then on the Saturday before Easter she would fast all day, culminating in her taking communion at around 7:30 pm when she could finally eat something. At that point, and due to her weakened and irritable condition, we had already gotten into several fights where she would throw every verbal insult at me that had been hold up inside her all year. Oh well, it was only once a year and I got to understand it as I got older. And in some way, this denial of food made her feel good. My mother loved Easter. I tried to but found it a difficult holiday. Easter is always on a Sunday which means I have to cook for the crowd and then go to work the next day exhausted. Its about making bread which I am terrible at. Its about coloring eggs which, to me, is a waste of a good food product. The colored eggs sits in a basket for decoration, breeding bacteria, making the egg inedible and smelly. So this year, with Thomas on crutches and Anthony working the restaurant, we had a quiet holiday with just us. Tony and I had a meal of cheese, fruit, spinach pies, grapeleaves and ham with a nice pinot noir. I hard-boiled the eggs with intentions of coloring them but decided to make deviled eggs instead. I liked my Easter this year more than any other. Some traditions do not stand the test of time and the world isn't any worse for it.