Somehow I'm still having trouble abandoning all the baggage I acquired in the first quarter century of my life. Same as Christmas, Easter was a time of religious warfare in my family, and later in my personal life. Some years it was subtle, other years it was not.
I had one grandma who celebrated Easter in a manner that did not make me feel like an alien among my peers at school. When she prevailed, Easter was fun. After she passed away our family pretty much stopped celebrating the holiday. It was just a vacation.
We never saw my mom's parents at Easter and my dad's dad could be grumpy about it -- you could tell he was a reluctant celebrant.
Easter is fun with my wife's family, even the church part, but the logistics didn't quite work out for me this year, partly because I wasn't willing to make the effort.
Sometimes I think I remember too much, especially the bad stuff. I can be overwhelmingly pessimistic.
When I was in college I had a friend I'd study with and we enjoyed one another's company. She told me she was separated from her husband, a very traditional "Christian" who'd been opposed to her going back to school which was the primary reason for their separation on the path to divorce. We both knew it was playing with fire but we'd play footsie under the table in the library while we were studying and she was the first woman who kissed me, a quick peck on the cheek while we were on a weekend field trip.
On a longer field trip we were camping out on the desert with a large group over the Easter holiday. One member of our group, a lay preacher of some sort, decided to hold an Easter sunrise service for anyone who wanted to attend. We did that that and it was lovely, almost Unitarian Universalist in tone, not at all sectarian, and my friend was leaning against me and we were holding hands.
That should be a great memory, right?
But then I can't stop thinking what happened soon after. She dropped out of school and went back to her husband. I was completely devastated.
And that seems to be part of the problem with how my mind works. I can't seem to have positive memories in isolation without all the negative associations dragging them down.
Meds are helpful, but I've quit some because they make me feel dull. My current meds are okay. I've never had meds that are great, and some that are horrible.Same goes for therapy, I think.
Maybe it's inappropriate for me to post about my troublesome baggage on this day of celebration for every Christian on this calendar.
I'm looking out my window now, it's a sunny day, and nature is abundant as it leaves the dormancy of winter behind.
This world is a wonderful place.
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