A little later than usual, but there were Easter eggs to be eaten, here is my article from last week’s Irish Examiner’s Feelgood.
Welcome to Good Friday with a difference. Today we are quite literally witnessing history, the first Good Friday in ninety years when those who wish to do so, can legally purchase an alcoholic drink.
Am I counting the hours until opening time?
No I’m not, because amazingly enough this year is the first Good Friday I’m not a bit thirsty!
I’m unsure if my lack of thirst will last the full day, but it’s an interesting quirk in my personality, to think that because I’m not forbidden to do something I immediately lose interest in doing it.
However, I do smile at the irony, as we insist the church should have no say in political life, yet embrace the religious feast which is Easter, and most especially the bank holiday Monday it brings our way.
As a child it always puzzled me as to why it was called Good Friday in the first place as there didn’t seem to be much that was’good’ about it. We had to go to church for the Stations, were told “it’s Good Friday,” every time we announced we were hungry and we ate fish or fish fingers for dinner.
However, there was one very ‘good’ thing about Good Friday and that was the fact it was followed by the glorious day which was Easter Saturday. The day Lent finished.
In our house that moment came at twelve midday. We were shocked to learn some of our young friends believed it continued until midnight, but we had no intention of breaking with family tradition.
My Lent as a child usually consisted of a total ban on chocolate or sweets, apart from St Patrick’s Day when we ate ourselves sick. Come Easter Saturday my brother and I would be up early counting the hours until midday deciding what to eat first, although it was never an Easter egg. They were only to be admired until after Mass on Sunday.
Will I miss that glorious magical end of Lent moment come midday tomorrow?
When it comes to Easter my children have begun their own traditions.
This year they told me they were not giving up anything for Lent but instead were ‘doing’ something. I’m not convinced by the difficulty of this new tradition, especially as one has spent Lent keeping her room tidy, or not as the case might be!
They’ve also been visited by an Easter Bunny, who was nowhere to be seen when I was a child. This bunny likes to scatter eggs about the garden, supposedly hiding them, although some show a distinct lack of effort and are clearly visible from the kitchen window. Once upon a time I believed there would be an age limit on this visitor but I’ve been proved wrong as he continues to come despite the fact my children are now, bar one, no longer legally children.
The eggs this bunny delivers are different to those I remember as a child. Ours tended to be along the lines of ‘small’ or ‘a little larger than small,’ whereas theirs I would describe as ‘large’ or ‘enormous.’
Yet, despite their greater size I don’t think anything can top the magic of the small eggs of my childhood with sweets hidden inside.
However, despite wistfully remembering the past I’m happy to embrace new traditions, and intend to do so if struck by a dreadful thirst later tonight.