Around this time of year, I miss my grandmother intensely. She's been gone for many years, but was a firm Catholic (her father helped found a Slovak church), and the reason I was raised Catholic. So Easter was a big deal: a new dress, long masses, big family dinner with ham, keilbasa, red beets and horseradish, and sweet raisin bread.
Well, I no longer eat meat, so the big heritage dinner is out (our family went to P.F. Chang's). I bought a new sundress, but just for looking decent while slogging around, and as a atheist, I don't attend mass. But what I do have is my grandmother's orchid, which blooms every year in spring. My mother transplanted it from Grandmother's garden to mine.
I was reminded recently in a
yoga book by Stephen Cope about how metaphysically, we really are One -- the atoms in our bodies change so quickly that there's a chance that I could, say, have part of Buddha or Abe Lincoln or Ella Fitzgerald in me, or even Hitler or Sarah Palin.
Thinking this way is helping me deal with my rage about my mom, my own faults, and that of everyone else. Life changes, we change. Everything is on its way somewhere. We're all connected.
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