EASTER BLESSINGS

EASTER BLESSINGS

 

We had a lovely family Easter.   Two grandparents (dwedfully old, as Dana says), three ‘children’ (in the prime of life), their charming spouses, and four grandchildren (dwedfully young, I might say), and a passing-through dog.   It was noisy, chaotic and fun.

 

 I heard that my children had had a discussion about the religious significance of Easter and realised that because I was so profoundly irritated by my father’s wish to impose his religious views (which were decidedly eccentric) on us, while I had certainly not troubled my children with  my views (or indeed any creeds) I had, in my silence on the  subject, left them woefully uneducated on these matters.   Yet another failure in parenting…

 

Elisabeth and Robert w ere our hosts (how nice for it no longer to be always us) in their newly refurbished house, and we had all brought contributions to the feast.

 

At family gatherings there is  always a complicated mixture of feelings:  love and irritation;   pride and worry;  pleasure and fatigue.   But when you come away, back to the peaceful oasis of your own chamber, and discuss events with your own partner, with all his good sense and sound judgement, who also uniquely, loves everyone that you love, you realise how blessed you are.   Your children are the  real riches of your life, and are making their own way;  their chosen partners bring into your life the different habits of their family’s lifestyle;  and that great promise for the future, your beloved grandchildren, each so very different, grow and prosper.

There’s the stylish Alexandra with her various artistic and musical talents;  the beautiful Erin, so practical and competent;  and the unique and fascinating Dana with her lovely eyes, her astonishing memory and her penetrating intellect.

 

Then there’s The Boy, who was proudly wearing a lovely Postman Pat jumper knitted by his other grandma.    He found himself in possession of a small, silver-paper wrapped, chocolate egg.   I watched him assess and consider the people around him to whom he could apply for assistance, and whether they could be trusted to remove the paper but not eat the egg.   Other children he rejected out of hand.    His grandfather he considered for longer, but obviously regarded the risk of him eating the egg was too great.   Finally, he entrusted the egg to me, but stood with his nose about 2 inches away from it, anxiously supervising my efforts.   I handed him the egg, and then pointing to his mother, said, Ask Mummy if you can have it now.    Ewan is a smart boy.   He knew his mother would be concerned about his diet; whether he would eat his dinner;  other tiresome Mummyish issues.   He popped the whole egg in his mouth and munched on it with great satisfaction before I could even turn him in the direction of his mother.   Oh the pleasures of being young!

 

I’m (I imagine) a logic and order kind of person.   I don’t really want to care strongly about people because each person you love you offer as a hostage to fortune.   You can see so much about them of which you can never speak, yet at the same time much is hidden from you,  for who can truly understand the heart or desire of another?   When you love someone, you are forever vulnerable.

 

Yet what is life without love?   Love is the blood that fires the body.   Love is the water that makes the dessert bloom.   Without love, there is only desolation.

 

May the blessings of Easter, with its great themes of love, redemption and new beginnings, encompass and comfort every one of you.     And may your supplies of chocolate never run out!