March 23, 2008
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I just dyed Easter eggs and I did it a new way. I made variations of color by dissolving the tablets differently. Some were in a bath of fizz with white vinegar. For the orange I used Meyer’s lemon, and the green just had water. Don’t do that, it doesn’t take. Plus, I used some brown eggs, too, which made the purple and orange more pungent. I’m feeling like it’s Easter now.
Not that I didn’t this morning. But singing the Hallelujah chorus at church was not like any Easter I’ve had before. I don’t think I’ve ever been to church on Easter. Well, not since I tried to take the girls when they were little and on the drive home the oldest wanted to know why she was a sinner. And this was the Episcopal church. We never went back. Well, I did, but that was 17 years later, and I didn’t take the kids.
I’ve never sung in a choir as an adult. I had no idea about the sense of camaraderie. And I had no clue about the Hallelujah chorus. What it can do to you. After we sat down, and it was with pride and a deep sense of righteousness, I was overcome. And I could see the woman next to me was, too. I kind of panicked because it felt like I was going to start sobbing or something, and I was sitting in the front row. I was sure people could see the tears well up and make that long, slow descent down through the eyeliner, over the concealer and onto my lipstick. I snuck my tongue out to catch the remains, wondering what color the trickle had left. It was better to think about that than the deep well of emotion that beckoned me.
The choir director was in her own state and we exchanged a look. Soon both eyes were pooling and I had to use my hands. Earlier that morning she’d told a story about one of the guys, who is Italian, “you know how Italians can be” she joked. She said last year after he was done singing he pulled out Kleenex. I should have known then.
The kids are having Easter dinner at their dad’s. Actually, it’s at his new wife’s house, since his is still on the market. I almost started to type something about how it was too bad he wasn’t having any luck selling his house. You know, like too bad so sad. But since I’ve been doing the compassion prayer (“may I be free from danger, may I be happy, may I be healthy, and may I live with ease”) I can say I sincerely hope he’s able to sell it soon.
Every day I say the prayer for myself, then for my mentor, then for the guy who makes my coffee (you’re supposed to choose a stranger), then for Henry, then for all people. I am a much more compassionate person now, and I can really tell when I go to the movies or something where I am around lots of people. I don’t feel so removed.
It’s time to eat artichokes, hot with melted butter. Happy Easter.
Comments (11)
happy easter, prudy…
Bravo for dyeing eggs! I didn’t this year, maybe next time. I also didn’t go to church today. For 13 years, I was a minister of music in a church. I only go occasionally now, and felt no compulsion to attend on Easter. That said, I miss the community of church life, and have been making forays here and there, trying to find one in which I would belong. I’m working on it. As for the Hallelujah chorus, I fell in love with Handel’s Messiah in college, and have listened to the whole thing many hundreds of times (not exaggerating). And yes, it still can make me cry. Happy Easter, Prudy. Handel, dyed eggs, and artichokes. It sounds like you had a good one!
ryc: At almost 2 years post divorce, you’d think I’d be getting the hang of it by now! And I am. And just starting to find that I like the single life. Sort of like going to Mars, or dying and coming back as a frog.
I admire how you have directed not only your thinking ,but your attitude.I t seems we really can have a voice in how we will feel.RYC I have always almost childishly thought of weather as if it were some mythical character instead of what it is which is science in motion….its funny how we use our minds to make things fit how we want to see the world:)
May your butter taste especially delicious this year
It was a powerful feeling. I can even feel it when I read your post.
I haven’t been to church on Easter for several years now. I miss the choir! It’s a special thing! I can’t find a church around here that does traditional music anymore… It’s sad. All of it is weird Christian pop/rock stuff. I just can’t connect to that like I can Amazing Grace or Morning Has Broken.
Happy Easter, sweetie. I remember the old days of yore when the kids & I painted eggs – we did some marvelous ones, none of which survived the many moves. Yesterday, after all the dancing of Saturday, I was so exhausted – first day off in about 2 or 3 weeks I think, and was unable to do much of anything except rest. Though instead of an Easter ham, my son and I had a roast of corned beef – 2 1/2 hours in the oven simmering over water under foil; the first time I’ve ever cooked it and it was surprisingly good – a little mustard, roast potatoes, brussel sprouts and so on, very nice.
The words to your meditation – beautiful and inspiring. Very beautiful. thank you – hugs xo
Your last line made me hungry. Just yum.
Sounds like a peaceful yet engaging Easter. That’s a combo that is often hard to attain for me. Good for you! The prayers do help create a sense of compassion in me too. I don’t pray exactly, but I wish thing for people and especially those for whom I have held grudges or bad feelings. It usually makes for an easier going.
The Hallelujah Chorus, big band music, and movie trailers (no matter how scary, sappy, or happy) make me cry. I can’t explain it. It’s embarrassing.
Hello, Prudence. This is an introduction, of sorts. I just “found” your blog today, through another blog site, and have appreciated your frank and personal writings. I can especially relate to your reaction to singing the Hallelujah Chorus, being a singer myself (not professionally). Music has always had an amazing power to move me, and performing music even more so than listening to it. Your reaction is understandable and so very real. Nothing at all to be embarassed about!
~Leah~
You asked me how I could feel your emotion that makes me to read this blog again. I think you showed your emotion very powerfully in the third paragraph, the sense of camaraderie, the tears welled up, your catching the remaining of a drop of tear. I think it was a sense of awe combined with your deep sense of loneliness. Although you are very outgoing, I think you are very lonely and you need a strong connection from someone who can share your inner self.