This Thursday, I love… Easter.
As a special thing, because I love you, here’s my entry to the KiKi & Tea What Easter Means To Me posts, going up over the weekend.
Easter always meant getting up early and watching the same cartoons in place of Saturday Disney every year. I swear I have seen those same ones 100 times. It meant the start of the school holidays, going to church and taking communion. It meant a pyjama clad Easter egg hunt through the bush around the house. My brother and I racing against each other to find all the eggs, which was pointless as we then had to hand them all over to be counted out and evenly distributed between us and our dad. Also, he always won. Right up until we moved out of home, we insisted on the Easter egg hunt, despite being far too old for such silliness.
After my (at that point future) husband and I got together, Easter Sunday became a big celebration with his family. A big American style breakfast and everyone coming together to celebrate. Now it’s at our home, and I have brought my own childhood by giving the kids an Easter egg hunt, in the style of my mother (my parents now join with my husband’s family).
For me, Friday and Saturday were about the Easter service, the story of Jesus. And Easter Sunday was always about fun and frivolity. Besides, I was always far too aware the bunnies and eggs were a nod to a Pagan fertility festival to associate the two.