In your Easter bonnet
With all the frills upon it
You’ll be the grandest lady
In the Easter parade
I’ll be all in clover
And when they look you over
I’ll be the proudest fellow
In the Easter parade
We were at the light. Thirty-five miles away from the church where we would hear the Easter story yet again.
Maybe I should have been thinking holy thoughts on a holy day. But I wasn’t. My mind is always in perpetual stream-of-consciousness. I don’t think that’s “normal,” but then again, it’s the only mind I’ve got, so I don’t know. I often think I would like to try someone else’s brain for a bit. Just to see.
What I was thinking at that moment was that I had become complacent. That I no longer pay attention to life. Don’t notice that things are going on all around me anymore. That’s suicide if you write.
She got out on the passenger side and walked in front of the truck. She didn’t look back. Started walking back toward town. Expressionless.
She was wearing white jeans and platform heels. Blue blouse. Looked straight out of the ‘70’s. Out of the every-day fashion then, at least. Not out of church fashion. Ladies wore their finery to church in those days. Pretty spring dresses and hats. I miss those hats.
But she was dressed for today’s church. The church that more than half of America doesn’t attend.
I couldn’t help thinking how important it is to always wear comfortable shoes. Never know when you’ll have to get out and walk away from your family on Easter Sunday.
“I reckon she’s had enough” I say.
“Yep” replied the Redhead.
That’s a benefit of living with someone for nearly forty years. Economy of words. Hemingway on steroids.
The man was comical in a dark sort of way. Looked straight ahead. Like nothing had just happened.
I look for kids. Please God, let there be no children in this Easter drama.
“What did you get for Easter? “
“Well I got a chocolate bunny and some colored eggs and mommy jumped out of the truck on the way to church.”
Easter isn’t what it used to be. But nothing else is either.
Have you noticed?