Typically, Easter is the celebration of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. People attend special church services, dress up in fancy clothes, and eat cross-shaped chocolates. But just like Christmas, Easter is one of those holidays that it seems like everyone celebrates, regardless of religious affiliation.
To me, Easter isn’t a day to celebrate the resurrection of Christ, but it’s a day that means a lot of things (and not just trying to put bunny ears on my cat each year).
Mostly, it’s the beginning of spring. It reminds me of cute little bunnies, pastel flowers, sunshine, the whole nine yards. Easter means a bright light at the end of the wintery tunnel, the beginning of warm weather and green trees. It’s an unofficial changing of the seasons, and the best one at that.
But Easter is also a day that I have no formal obligations. Sure, I have to behave myself at lunch and cover up my tattoos so that my grandma doesn’t see them and say, “Sydney, why would you do that to yourself?” But I get to spend a day with my family, free from the worries of school and work.
I get to bond with my siblings, and each year my aunt continues to set up an egg hunt for us, even though my brother is the youngest of us at 18 years old. We get to run around like we’re kids again, scouring for brightly colored eggs with various amounts of change inside of them, with my aunt’s dog running at our sides as we shout what used to be playful insults but have now turned into slightly more vulgar ones.
My mom stresses out about Easter baskets and new hiding places each year, making sure she remembers which kid likes which kind of chocolate and if anyone actually likes Robin Eggs. Easter is an easy and exciting routine that I can expect year after year, even though I am not a Christian.