Last year was awe, confusion, but also an almost intoxicating search for a new everyday life and other outlets for contact, entertainment, relaxation. The collapse of recognizable normality and the hibernation of certainties on the one hand constricted and distressed us, on the other hand it redeemed us.
Euphoria vaccine
Until we experienced the deafening Easter without churches, blessings, gatherings and a beautiful, simple secularity legitimized under the cover of religious, collective and individual ritual. This year, we’re simply in awe. Spring calls out to us and pulls us by the sleeve, but we are held back by regulation and normal human fear. As much as we were disappointed with this long restrictive condition, we knew very well what the enemy is capable of doing to you. We may live more relaxed and unruly, but inside we are bound.
The version you hold in your hands grew into this second version of our paradoxical age. It captures a thirst for life, for a return to old rhythms and habits.
Our request to live once more. At the same time, the self-limiting factor of awareness is not lacking. His absence would be an insult to fellow citizens who spent and are spending hours of agony, it would also be immature lightness.
This Easter will be the celebration of hope. This hope comes almost exclusively from vaccine and science. But let’s let it symbolize the growing of the day, the flowering, the rise of the mercury, the fresh air in a more expressive and spring-like way.
The vegetation
Faith, hope, connection, encounter with personal experiences. And it’s spring outside. The phase is reborn and flares up, cultivating the fairy-tale promise that life always finds its way:
Even if the concrete is defended, the vegetation will find its way to the light. But the Holy Week narrative itself teaches that while there is no death without life, there is also no life without death. One will mourn something once in a while. Whether loss exists. Either mortal memory. You know very well what the Gospels mean.
Looking for the light
From a young age my eye sought the light. I would draw the curtains to diffuse the light in the room and on cloudy days I would look between them to find a bright spot. I did not always succeed, but the longing of the search filled me with joy. Growing up, this search extended to many everyday things.
Fatherly advice also contributed to this. “Even in the negative there is something positive. You just have to look for it.” The snapshot from the marina of Patras, on a cloudy April followingnoon, captures the light of hope. We will find it somewhere if we pull the dark curtain of the pandemic and accept the message of the Resurrection.
Waiting for the Resurrection
It’s been a long hard winter, but always, always, spring follows. As the weather improves and temperatures rise, even in the center of the city everything blooms.
This is what we expect for souls too. A resurrection of our own. The Resurrection of society, which has not happened a little in recent years.
The scent of jasmine
Do you know how jasmine got its name? The ancient Greeks called it jasmine, bringing it from Persia and the Far East. The Duke of Tuscany loved it like a treasure. It comes every spring, along with the lilac, marking the end of the crucifixion and the Resurrection.
Its white color indicates purity, its aroma will stop every passer-by, who will not be able to help but wonder: “How does such a beautiful flower produce this waterfall of beauty?”.
Easter table in the village
Then nothing limited us. The most characteristic, however, that I remember was the presence of my grandfather.
I remember him happy, telling us his stories. Unfortunately, he is no longer with us. He will always be missing from the holidays and from everyday life.
In the following years I was not at home on Easter as I was away for preparation. This Easter table, therefore, has remained in my memory, as we all celebrated together without anyone being absent. At least we enjoyed it with our souls.”
All customs
My grandmother taught us all the customs. Church during Holy Week with our “little book”, fasting with fried potatoes and zucchini. We cut hyacinths, lilies and freesias from the whitewashed yard and took them to the church to decorate the epitaph. We had to cross ourselves three times and say our prayer.
On Holy Saturday we break jars for the “first resurrection”. My uncle prepared the lamb for Sunday with so much patience and love. Loukoumi was coming out, they said! On Easter Sunday, all my mother’s family would gather and have a big feast. Dance, destruction and joy. What wonderful, unforgettable years!!!
- From the “P” of Friday, April 23, 2021
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