Another Easter Sunday
Happy Easter, everyone!
What does Easter mean when you’re as old as I am? It no longer means Easter egg hunts or brunches with the whole extended family. Not only am I old, but someone close to me is not well. So I go to Mass on TV whenever possible during the day, choosing the priest I’m in the mood for. Father Orbos? Father Caluag? A priest from Canada? I have so many choices for Easter Mass.
Every Sunday I choose the time when hearing Mass is convenient. Then I choose the priest. If I want a quick albeit solemn Mass, I choose the one from Canada. If I want a chatty, friendly sermon, I choose Father Orbos. Serenity? Father Caluag. I prefer my Mass to be simple and close to my heart.
So I know I will go to Mass today, most likely in my nightgown, still. Furthermore I will go alone in my room because my husband, for reasons he chooses not to articulate, no longer wants to go to Mass. This is the man who five years ago reintroduced me to the Sunday Mass. I remembered it and liked it even more. Since then I have been going to Mass every Sunday and holiday of obligation.
Before the pandemic, Sundays were fun. It was a time for us to go to Mass, meet up with relatives and friends who went to the same church. Then we would check out one restaurant or another, far or near, discover wonderful things to eat, talk and laugh a lot. But the quarantine cancelled that, taught us the art of staying home and fulfilling your religious duties via television, where it feels a little silly singing the “Our Father” alone, not fully receiving communion but saying a prayer instead. But things always change. We always adjust to the changes. We always roll with the punches.
Our children are all grown up. The youngest is past her middle 30s and the oldest — mine — is already a grandmother. They all have their own lives to lead. Sure, we all greet each other “Happy Easter.” This year Easter falls on April 17. I have suggested to my husband’s children that if they want to greet their Papa on his birthday, which is the next day, April 18, I think they should pop in on Easter Sunday afternoon or lunchtime.
On his birthday I have ordered a Peking Duck that Loy, my husband, his caregivers and I will share for lunch. That’s my gift to him and my way of saying thank you to his caregivers. We have become friends. I like to introduce them to food they will not normally eat, to open their eyes and mouths to the things that separate us and consequently to close the gap. The difference between us is, unfortunately, always there but efforts must be made to diminish them. I will introduce them to a delicious Chinese duck. One day when they make the money, they can treat their children to Peking duck and remember this unforgettable lunch.
I am genuinely looking forward to it. I ordered it through my computer and they at first got the date wrong. I said April 18, their notice said April 19. I had to insist on the 18th. It’s my husband’s birthday, I protested. Finally they sent me a copy of their notice saying April 18. But after I paid, someone sent a notice thanking me for my payment for lunch on April 19. I tried to respond but it wouldn’t send. So please wish me luck.
Easter is a time for new beginnings, isn’t it? For the start of a new life. I wonder what my new life will be, if and when it hits. Will my husband stand up and dance cheek-to-cheek with me once more? Will we both get out of the scruffy clothes we have gotten used to during this pandemic, get dressed to the nines and go out to dinner once more? Will we go to the mall to walk around and try new things again?
I have an open mind about this. Even if my husband right now does not like to stand or walk, does not like to see many people, prefers to sleep rather than be up and about, wants only to hold my hand as I sit on the armchair near his bed rather than talk, I do not lose hope that one day, by some miracle, he will find the spirit that used to light him up, used to make him smile so much, enjoy life so much.
Until that day comes life will go on as before. I will make rosaries every day in the morning, then spend the rest of the day sitting quietly with him.
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