Happy Easter

Tonight, while we were dying eggs, Ya-Ya asked me what eggs have to do with Easter.
"Hm," I said. I had to think about it for a moment. Sometimes when my kids ask me big questions, I overshare. A couple weeks ago, Ya-Ya asked me why dogs don't see in color, and I ended up on an hour long digression of quantum physics. Which I only pretend to know about. But religious symbolism is never ever a succinct topic. Eggs, bunnies, crucifixion, lambs blood over the door, what does it all mean?

Luckily we were in the kitchen, where I do my best thinking. I tend to use cooking as a medium for deep thought, which is probably why I once cut off my own thumb. Then lost it down the garbage disposal. But again, I digress.

I picked up an egg, not yet mauled by my girls, and thought.
"An egg is a perfect symbol of potential, Ya-Ya," I said, "A perfect symbol of rebirth."
"Oh, ok."
And the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. The winter is death, introspection, the spring is renewed life. Passover :death and oppression rewarded with life and freedom. Resurrection: death as the price for life.

There's a common thread here. In the Lord's prayer, we ask for this day's bread. Not to save yesterday's, or hoard tomorrow's. We were meant to die and be reborn every day, without expectation or regret. It's the rhythm of things.

One day, I'll tell Ya-Ya that.