Easter Sunday falls on April 1st this year. I remember another year when it also fell on April 1st, and am keenly aware of yet another year when it did so.
The last time I remember Easter Sunday being on the first day of April, I was a senior in boarding school, run down from my scholastic workload and speaking on the phone with my Dad. I was feeling sorry for myself, going on and on about the several rejections I had received from colleges I'd applied to, and I bitterly noted that it was Easter Sunday, supposedly a time for hopeful change but here I was in the throes of rejection and feeling hopeless after four hard years away at this school.
My Dad was trying to be encouraging, saying that it was Harvard's, Antioch's and Colorado College's loss and the University of Colorado was a fine school, and since I had noted the date, perhaps I should reflect that Easter was traditionally a time of renewal and rebirth. "Yeah," I said cynically, "what a joke, April 1st, Easter Sunday, so full of hope and don't you know it's also April Fools Day."
My Dad said quietly to his complaining 17-year old son, "The last Easter Sunday I spent that was also April Fools Day, as you note, was when I was put ashore on Okinawa in 1945 with the rest of the First Marine Division." It was a teaching moment, a reference to the opening day of one of the worst battles of World War II, which produced 50,000 American casualties and that he participated in at the tender age of 20, and I was never so embarrassed by the juxtaposition of such a stark contrast of things young men are faced with.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment