We got Holy Week’d.
This is the technical term for the state of post-Easter brainmush in which people who work in churches find themselves on the days after Holy Week concludes. Somehow, being at church for 7+ hours a night for days on end does that to a person.
At any rate, this is going to be a short post. Shorter than usual. Sorry. (Or maybe “You’re Welcome?” I dunno.)
I love Easter. For many reasons. Yes, I love the holy day and all that it celebrates, I love how the fast of Lent culminates into joyous feast, I love the solemnity and introspection of Holy Week itself. This year, I’ve greatly enjoyed being with my Jewish colleagues and learning more about the traditions surrounding Passover. (I also tried my first dark-chocolate covered Matzo!) And of course Cadbury Creme Eggs are a religious observance unto themselves.
There is one thing I love about Easter that is mine alone, though. Because it was on Easter weekend in 2007 that I first kissed the woman I love – and then, on Easter day itself, we drove to church together in the snow.
It was strange – almost unparalleled – and it was surreal in its beauty. But the further I go in life, the more convinced I am that finding Joanie – finding the one person who matches me this well, who complements me this naturally – was exponentially less likely than that snowfall, was infinitely more beautiful an occurrence, and is far more to be treasured.
Happy Easter to all of you!