"If joy were a color, it would be purple pastel pretty, like old women and young children both wear on Easter, smiling while having deviled eggs and drinking Kool-Aid. Chasing blown bubbles in the backyard, the young ones' distracting hats fly off."
This portion of poet Bradley Hathaway's poem "On being joyful and content" casts a perfect image of Easter Sunday.
Vivid, cinematic memories flicker along the back roads of my thoughts, splashed with old-fashioned Easters spent sipping lemonade in a park with my own pastel matching hat and dress ensemble. The day begins in church, with fragrant lilies and swaying palm branches.
Since many of my Easters have been spent in Oklahoma or Alabama visiting family, a balmy feeling coats many of these memories. After the jubilant service, the large meal consumes the focus of the next few hours. A variety of salads show their timid faces again and their crisp lightness helps the mood of the day.
For my family, this holiday has little to do with the Easter bunny and everything to do with gratefulness. It's a day to celebrate Jesus Christ's resurrection, and a richness seeps up from the knowledge of who Christ is to me and how much he's done for me. That knowledge saturates the day and makes the sun shine with a different kind of light.
I feel kind of sorry for the people whose Easters mean only bunnies, chocolate eggs and baskets. Not that those traditions are wrong, but they are empty without the true meaning to back them. And I do enjoy painting eggs and running through a backyard to find the elusive eggs or baskets. It's just not the root of all Easter is.
Easter equates itself with spring in my mind; with being outside in the timid but warming sun. The connection stems from the salads, the springy-pastel dresses and color themes, the flowers and the outdoor activities.
Also Easter usually falls in April, when the snow begins melting and rushing through the soggy world. Spring can creep shyly into our days, as if it never will show its face, or it can loudly take us off guard when we turn around one morning. Easter sometimes heralds spring's arrival or it only waves the smell of it in front of our eager noses, teasing us with its proximity. These connections, between Easter and spring, bridge in my mind, and although tomorrow we may be eating deviled eggs in the snow, the bridge still will stand.
What is it about spring that is so contagious, so consuming? Is it that the cold seclusion of winter sloughs off the frozen earth? Is it the rushing of water signaling the earth's preparation to regenerate itself? Spring equals all that is fresh and new in life. Winter's harshness fades quickly into memory when the sun fills our darkened thoughts. Although winter owns its share of amazing outdoor activities (skiing, sledding, skating and such) spring open its arms and calls all of us to enjoy the wonders of the world again. Each day beckons to us open up our sleepy eyes and let the sunlight dip us in its smile.
I know spring fever actually exists. The definition of fever in this context is "intense nervous excitement." That disease inflicts us all. On March 3, the temperature rose to 50 degrees, and I was gone. Biking filled my thoughts but I needed to somehow get the bike down that hibernates on a hook in my garage. I didn't fully think about what I was doing until it was too late and I had the bike off the hook, way above my head! Luckily it made it safely to the ground without injuring me too much.
Tomorrow, as Easter ushers spring into the possibly still frozen earth, I will pretend that the earth is warm. If there is no sun, I will pretend it's only sleeping and then joy, in its "purple pastel pretty" form, can rush through my bones!
Jessica Bailey is a senior at Lighthouse Christian Academy in Oneonta.
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