IT’S MY LIFE
WELCOME to Good Friday with a difference. Today we are quite literally witnessing history, the first Good Friday in 90 years when those who wish to do so, can legally purchase an alcoholic drink.
Am I counting the hours until opening time?
No, I’m not, because amazingly enough, this year is the first Good Friday I’m not a bit thirsty.
I’m unsure if my lack of thirst will last the full day but it’s an interesting quirk in my personality to think that just because I’m not forbidden to do something I immediately lose interest in doing it.
Losing this tradition I suspect, will change Good Friday forever. For some, I’m sure it’s a sad day and they will mourn its passing, although I’ll not be among them.
However, I do smile at the irony as we insist the church should have no say in political life, yet embrace the religious feast which is Easter and most especially the bank holiday Monday it brings our way.
As a child, it always puzzled me as to why it was called Good Friday in the first place as there didn’t seem to be much that was ‘good’ about it.
We had to go to the church for the Stations, were told “it’s Good Friday,” every time we announced we were
My Lent as a child usually consisted of a total ban on chocolate or sweets, apart from St Patrick’s Day when we ate ourselves sick
hungry, and we ate fish fingers for dinner.
However, there was one very ‘good’ thing about it — it was followed by the glorious day which was Easter Saturday. The day Lent finished. In our house, that moment came at midday. We were shocked to learn there were others who believed it continued until midnight, but we had no intention of breaking with family tradition.
My Lent as a child usually consisted of a total ban on chocolate or sweets, apart from St Patrick’s Day when we ate ourselves sick.
Come Easter Saturday, my brother and I were up early counting the hours until midday deciding what to eat first, although it was never an Easter egg. They were not allowed be touched until after Mass on Sunday.
Will I miss that magical end of Lent moment come midday tomorrow?
No, because despite the fact I don’t do Lent very well, or at all, I will continue to honour the tradition of sitting down at midday to eat the first of my gathered stash of Easter goodies.
When it comes to Easter, my children have begun their own traditions. This year they told me they were not giving up anything for Lent but instead were ‘doing’ something. I’m not overly convinced by the difficulty of this new tradition compared with our ‘giving up chocolate and sweets,’ especially as one has spent Lent keeping her room tidy, or not as the case might be.
They’ve also, for many years, been visited by an Easter Bunny. This bunny likes to scatter eggs about the garden, supposedly hiding them, although some show a distinct lack of effort and are clearly visible from the kitchen window.
I suspected once upon a time that there would be an age limit on this visitor, but I’ve been proved wrong as he continues to come, despite the fact my children are now, bar one, no longer legally children.
The eggs this bunny delivers are also different to those I remember as a child. Ours tended to be along the lines of ‘small’ or ‘a little larger than small,’ whereas theirs I would describe as ‘large’ or ‘enormous’.
Yet, despite their greater size, I don’t think anything can top the magic of the small eggs of my childhood with the sweets hidden inside.
However, reminiscing about the past doesn’t mean I don’t embrace new traditions, especially if I become thirsty later tonight.