Unorthodox Easter Sunday

Of all the Christian holidays Americans have secularized, Easter is perhaps the oddest.

My family never celebrated a traditional Easter - we weren't church-goers of any denomination or faith - but we did "recognize" the holiday in our own way.  Most years we'd head down to Sacramento to visit my mom's parents, Grandma and Grandpa Mac.  We'd sleep over Saturday night and wake the next morning to hunt for our Easter baskets.  For breakfast we'd have rice muffins, but only after we'd donned our fancy dresses and "nice pants."  It was a bit like Thanksgiving - a fully secular formal family function.

For the past 10 years - 1 in Japan and 9 in New York - I didn't really celebrate Easter.  Sumie and I often didn't even know it was upon us until we woke to find stores closed and longer-than-usual brunch lines on the Upper West Side.  Mimi's arrival didn't make much difference either.  It wasn't until we came back to California, and back to my side of the family, that I started thinking about Easter again.

It's an oddly secularized holiday.  How a holy week commemorating the sentencing, death, and resurrection of Christ is now wrapped up in a Sunday of giant rabbits, plastic eggs with jelly beans, ridiculously formal clothing for children under 6, and large plates of lamb or ham, I don't know.  It's just plain strange.  But that didn't keep us from dabbling a bit in the American tradition of a secular Easter this Sunday.  In fact, I think we did a pretty good job of making it even more our own!

Unfortunately, Sumie was on call this Sunday.  That meant no Mama for Mimi to play with.  Saddened by Mama's required absence, Mimi took solace by hiding in the fridge.  

But it wasn't all bad.  Mama couldn't come out, but Grandma and Grandpa were free, so we planned our own little picnic brunch in Golden Gate Park.  The traditional heavy ham or lamb was replaced with cheese, bread, roast chicken, and some additional jelly beans for Mimi.  

We laid out our spread on the picnic tables on the edge of Stow lake.  It was a perfect day for it.  The only thing missing was Sumie.  

Mimi ate well for a while, but soon became distracted by ducks.  What is it about a duck that is so endlessly entertaining to a two year old?  

Everyone stuffed, we walked off some of our brunch by heading down to the lawns below the lake.  There, at Mimi's request, we had an impromptu Easter Egg hunt.  

Mimi's egg hunt got me to thinking.  Finding eggs or Easter baskets is fun when you're really little and everything's hiding in plain sight, but once you get older, it's rather aggravating.  You know what you want - all that Easter chocolate - but someone has gone to the trouble of hiding it so that you have to go through the trouble of finding it.  This drove me nuts when I was a kid.  I hated looking for my Easter basket, which only made my parents hide it in more and more difficult spots.  Yes, there was abuse in my family, but it was always of a "bet you can't find it now!" nature. 

Honestly, why do we hide Easter baskets?  Think about it this way: do you ever have a great time looking for your keys or the remote control?  No, of course not!  So why would finding something a giant bunny or mildly sadistic parent tucked away be any more enjoyable?  OK, that's enough of me being an Easter Grinch.  Will I continue to hide things for my daughter if she enjoys finding them?  You bet.  All I ask is that she please not hide anything of mine.  Particularly the Apple TV remote.  That thing is so damn hard to find to being with!

Alright, digression over.  Grandma and Grandpa headed for home around nap time.  Mimi, worn out from all the running at the park, fell right to sleep and stayed that way until Mama came through the door.  It was still early, so we packed up the car and headed for dinner in the North Beach section of town.  We stopped in at a little Italian place with great pizza.  Mimi approved. 

 It was nice to sit out on the street again.  It took us back to our time in NYC and made us appreciate our new city a bit more.  The massive overhead heaters helped to keep the SF winds at bay.  Pizza, and clams linguini aren't the most traditional Easter fare, but they fit us perfectly. 

Back at home, Mimi was worn out from a rather adventurous day.  She refused to climb the stairs, so I carried her up.  This kind gesture infuriated her to no end and resulted in a massive tantrum on the hallway carpet.  I retaliated by throwing myself on the floor and throwing my own tantrum, mocking Mimi's every sound.  Within 30 seconds she'd gone from wails to giggles.  A change definitely worth the rather humbling pose and fantastic view of my bald spot. 

As the night came to a close I was happy we'd finally celebrated Easter again this year.  And even more pleased we'd done it in our own unique way.  And Mimi, she just can't get over how many damn jelly beans she still has!