According to my interactions between me and my friends on the other side of the ocean, easter is a slightly holiday for an italian boy and an american one. Where i saw the coming of the Easter Holiday as a religiously toned series of family meetings, ritualistic dinner, chruch attending and lots of fetishitic jesus paraphernalia, they talk about chocolate eggs and bunnies.
We have the egss too, but not the bunnies, really, at all. I have no idea where the idea of celebrating the resurrection of a prophet by huggin bunnies comes from (apparently from Germany, who would've guessed that they could do nice stuff), but compared to the strictly catholic love for the idea of the holiday as a reminder of Zombie Jew Jesus, it seems more fun.
Seems though, that most people, everywhere, unless they have rightfully escaped from the tradition, have to deal with the utter horror that such holidays, especially this family oriented ones bring: family meetings.
I know people who gladly ran away from that and hang out with friends or take time for themselves. Personally, my mother is an alcoholic with a faulty health, so i used the holiday to try and avoid that she hurt herself too much, while styill trying to avoid it getting under my skin.
Still it wasnt a pleasant experience and it shouldnt be. It left a bad taste of depression on me, that i had to work hard to shake off. My depression started years ago, during these times. The coming of the sunnier seasons, the celebrating, the pseudo festive air, were what made me notice the darker details in my life. Happened to my mother too. All holidays do that, christmas too, but easter has a special power. There used to be relatives grouping and shittalking each other, all in one house, once. And there still are. She ran away from that but still bears the scars oif what that did to her and tries to drown the pain and the feeling of utter loneliness with drinking, making it even more of a problem on a celebration sized dinner. Now she has my father back in her life. His brain is meltin, he's ill and angry, doesnt recall his abusive ways, but has no place to go either. So she has to deal with thgat and her own issues. Thats why i feel the duty of supporting her.
I dont think, i'm a good person. Some say i am, but i am only acting that way cause i thinki it's fair. I couldnt do differently. I tried to cut off from them and abandon them to their pain but it made me feel unnecessarily cruel. Still i do not like the occasion. And i find weird, how i keep stumbliung on people that seem to LOVE their parents and relatives. Their In Laws. Their Moms and Dads. If, they have any form of problem with them or the idea of celebrating holidays with them, its out of some childish pettiness, like how their family's ritual dinner doesnt respect their veganism or something like that. Its weird.
One of the main point in becoming a person is facing the truth: you are not supposed to get along with your family. You're not supposed to enjoy their company and they are not enjoying yours. They dont love you. They had you and dealt with it, but they wouldnt talk to you if you werent related. Still, if you feel like trying, you can. And in that case you have to deal with how they are, with no snarkiness or complaining. Even more, if youre living in their house or leeching their meals. You had the choice and thats how it is. You're free to not keep in touch and no one will really feel bad. They'll get over it and you will. Holidays trick people into belkieving that families are naturally unite, which isnt true.
As my muse says: "Blood aint thicker than water"