I love Easter. I love Christmas, too, but there is so much less production and expectation at Easter, that decorating and entertaining is much more stress-free. The Christmas story is lovely, about the birth of the baby Jesus, Mary, the manger, the star. But the Passion and the Resurrection are really the meat of what being Christian is, and I can use every reminder I can get that salvation and forgiveness are mine for the asking.
(I even have forgiveness for the family slurping a frappacino and crunching spicy potato chips behind me during mass--but are you really going up to receive the Host with jalapeno breath?)
We have a decent-sized bunny collection going, it grows a little every year. At first, as the grandmothers would send a couple of bunnies each Easter, I began to think, seriously, what do they expect us to do with more bunnies? Then I realized, they are a great way to decorate for spring, and isn't that what bunnies are supposed to do? Multiply? That's the whole they reason they are a symbol of spring and fertility. So I take them out each March, and then pack them away again after the Easter season.
(Which lasts 50 days, my friends, so when you see the egg wreath still on my door, it's not because I'm too lazy to take it down. Ok, not only because I'm lazy. But also because it's officially ok to leave it up until May, when I bring out my red, white, and blue stars wreath in preparation for Memorial Day, Flag Day, and 4th of July.)
So this Sunday, we hosted our 10th Annual Easter Ham and Lamb. We've been hosting Easter for friends, and occassionally visiting family, ever since our first military move to the West coast, and we always enjoy it.
It was just after our first guests arrived that the earthquake struck. "Struck" sounds very dramatic, and really, the shaking wasn't that bad, just rattled the house and made the trees and bushes sway back and forth. Though it did seem to go on for several minutes, which was unusual and a little exciting. We went on with the kids' egg hunt, and then our dinner. While we were eating I heard my cell phone ring, but I knew I wouldn't be able to extricate my self from the table in time to get it. I suspected it was my mother, because she has been fascinated by earthquakes since she felt a small one when she visited us here years ago. I wondered aloud if she had an iphone app for the usgs earthquake alerts. A minute later, my husband's cell phone rang, I figured I'd better get it so my parents wouldn't worry.
Good thing I did.
Back in Georgia, my parents were hosting their own Easter dinner, with my sister and my nephew, and my other sister and her husband. My younger sister just visited us here last week, and she was sharing her stories about San Diego, and wishing she'd had a chance to feel a little earthquake. They teased my Mom about all the email updates she receives about every little earthquake. She insisted it wasn't that many, not since she changed her settings so she only is alerted for 3.5 or above. While playing Scat (a card game) after dinner, my nephew was the first eliminated and went to the computer. He quickly called to the others that there'd been a seven-point-something quake in Southern California.
"What!?" shouted my Mom, jumping up from the table. Everyone tried to calm her, assuring her that it was probably fine. Mom rushed to her computer, looking over my nephew's shoulder as he clicked on different headlines and links. She told me later that it was all she could do to not physically throw him out of her chair so she could start checking for herself. Finally my sister suggested my nephew move, and Mom got more worried when she saw the giant red box over the Mexico/California border. That's when they started calling us, and worrying more when we didn't answer the home phone (the ringer is off) or my cell.
When I answered my husband's phone, it was my Dad, and he put me on speaker phone. I think they were all on the edge of their seats. I had to step outside so I could hear them, and reassure them that we were alright, that there was no damage here. He told me that I should post something on Facebook, and I distractedly said "OK" (I was distracted because all three of my kids had snuck out after me and were running down the street as though their very freedom was at stake).
"No, really, you should, Kristi, because people will be worried," added my older sister.
I assured them I would, then I chased down and caught the two-year-old, and went back inside. I wasn't about to chase the older ones, and we live in a small gated neighborhood anyway. They'd come back when they realized that freedom, when you're under 8, is overrated.
So I updated my Facebook status, and went back to dessert. Soon the doorbell rang. "Who is it?" shouted my husband.
"US!" called out my son and daughter.
We let them back in. Maybe they finally realized it wasn't that smart to run away from a house full of Easter candy.
