Spring…Wow, I just can’t stop the thoughts here! So many memories flood my mind as this Spring season is upon us. Easter, Graduations, First Communions, all sorts of rites of the season approach us now. I admit it, I am a real softie for all things festive, with First Communion being no exception.

I made my First Communion 50 yrs ago this Spring! That’s a very long time ago! I am sure that the memory I should have taken away from it was the significance of the act, being able to receive Holy Communion, when actually, I have to admit, at the time for the most part, it was all about the dress! Yes, the dress. Oh how I remember what that dress looked like and felt like.

The dress was white. Pure white. It had a fanciness to it I had never before experienced. First of all, it was one of those dresses that came in a zipped up wardrobe bag. You just knew a garment was special if it had to be protected like that! Being white, it had to be handled very carefully. No dirty hands when that dress got tried on, let me tell you! I can still see in my mind, the little pearl buttons and the trimmed detailing on the front of the dress. So pretty! I’d like to say it was the most comfortable dress I had ever had, but no, it was not. It had a very scratchy slip attached to it and I can still feel the itch if I think about it long enough. But it didn’t matter, I felt like a princess in that dress, and having the matching purse surely added to the look. The purse was plastic, but to me it was as fine as any high-end leather purse of today, and I loved the snapping sound it made when I opened and closed it. I must have opened and closed that purse at least a dozen times as I sat in the church pew on the big day.

The final touch to the entire outfit had to be the veil. Oh, the veil. I am sure every little girl that age, when wearing one of those First Communion veils, gets her first notion of what it must be like to wear a wedding veil. The lift of the veil as the wind caught it added to the magic of it all. Wearing the whole ensemble, I felt like I could just soar with all that pure joy.

Now there is one catch to this fine memory. Sadly, I did not get to make my First Communion with the other dozen first graders that May day in 1964, as I had developed the mumps. Yes, we got “the mumps” back in those days and I had to make my First Communion all by myself the next week. When the doctor told me I had the mumps and the whole First Communion deal was off for that upcoming Sunday I “wept bitterly,” as they say. I remember my mom and my older sisters having to do a lot of talking to convince me that making my First Communion by myself the following week would be just as wonderful, and I could be the only one up there, solo act! I did have a grand time that next week, but being a girl who’s always loved doing things with her pals, that did rain a little bit on my First Communion parade. But again, the dress, the veil, the purse…. Wearing all of that made everything fine and wonderful once the big day finally came.

After the special event, we all came home and Dad took my First Communion photos with his trusty Polaroid. If you notice in the picture, I have my feet angled just so. I had studied a First Communion photo my grandma had at her house, of my cousin Kathy in California. Kathy was a few years older than me and scored very high with the “cool” factor, in my opinion. I just loved the way she stood in her photo. I copied her stance so I could look just like that too. (Oh the impressions others can make without even realizing it, right?) The day was wonderful, the meaning of the event finally sunk in as I matured a bit, and to this day, the thought of that special little First Communion outfit makes me feel like I was indeed something! And shouldn’t we all have that “I am something” feeling now and again? Best feeling in the world!

Here is one more photo…My First Communion gift from my folks. St. Theresa (my middle name is Theresa). I have had this sweet statue for 50 years now. It has survived 8 moves over that time span.

Easter…. New dresses, patent leather shoes, lace trimmed anklets, white gloves and of course, the ever popular Easter bonnets. Remember those days? I am not so sure we see that kind of hoopla today, but it sure brings back memories for many of us. I love this photo of my sisters and our mom, taken around 1960. It makes me think of the notion of rituals. Some might think that word is a bit stifling, but I believe the idea of rituals brings security and comfort to children as they grow up.

We need those rituals to create a sense of belonging and family unity in our world today. Having raised two sons, we don’t have the family memories of the Easter bonnets and gloves of course, but I bet if I quiz our sons, they WILL remember the ritual of getting spiffed up on Easter morning, complete with me chasing them down with comb and spray bottle of water to get that hair just right, especially before the Easter pictures were taken. Maybe this memory will even bring them a laugh some day, along with what I have heard so many times already… “Mom, you were ridiculous with that hair thing!”

Our boys also had the holiday ritual of Easter egg dyeing. Again with boys, we didn’t really have the girly touch to any of this. I would prep the kitchen table with a cute Eastery vinyl tablecloth, line up the cups of colored water, get the wire wands all set up and await the gorgeous beauties my boys would create. Oh, such high hopes I had! Well, the beautiful eggs would start out with great pastel colors, reminding us of the hues of Spring, only to soon be changed up to what the boys called “The Death Eggs”…. The Death Eggs would end up being the colors of gray and black, depending on how many colors they could combine. Why leave those pretty pastels the way they were? Oh no, the best method they could come up with was mixing every single color together to create these little gems. Lovely, just lovely. The Death Eggs. Oh well, tradition! Yes, that’s the way it goes, raising boys, and we’ll take tradition any way we can get it, right?

Do you have some Holiday traditions that stand the test of time? Traditions are a funny thing, since so often the original intent veers so far off the mark that the rituals take on a life of their own. Whatever your traditions, just enjoy them, even if they are as goofy as the “Death Egg”… In the end, that’s what makes a memory, the quirky, “You had to be there” type of mentality. Have a joyous holiday and may your traditions be cherished, no matter what color your Easter eggs turn out to be! Maybe I’ll get that spray bottle of water out again, since my own hair could use a little spiffing up!

Here’s a photo of Matt and Jeff, coloring Easter Eggs back in the day, still young enough to go along with Mom’s idea of keeping the eggs pretty!
And one more photo.. Easter, 1995…Oh the memories!

Color… Don’t you love it? It’s April here in Missouri and right now each day brings a new, bold expression of color outside. It’s great…Reminds me of when we were kids and they’d have that little announcement, “Brought to you in living color” on tv before certain shows aired. The problem was, we didn’t yet have a color television set in the 1960’s, so that didn’t pertain to us, much to our disappointment. Isn’t it nice that God’s gift of Nature’s color is not for a select audience? We all get to enjoy the colors of the seasons, it’s just there for the noticing.

I must admit I am one of those persons that just cannot keep my comments about the beauty of the season to myself. I don’t care who is with me in a car, if we are driving somewhere I have to comment and keep commenting, “Oh look at that gorgeous tree” “Oh look at that color of the lawns!” “Look at those blooms!” Yes, after a Winter with very little vibrant color to offer, it’s just GLORIOUS to see the Spring Season burst with such vivid hues. I love it.

I love to take my camera out with me and just shoot away. Thankfully the neighbors don’t seem to mind me traipsing around to get a great shot of a bloom. I think they are used to me by now, after so many years of doing this! I am always in awe when I really examine a flower close up with the zoom lens of my camera. The intricate little detail of each flower is absolutely amazing to me. God’s handiwork…Wow, what a Creator!

Our pear tree just finished its blooming as well as our magnolia tree. I can’t wait for the lilacs to bloom soon too. I told my sister Robin recently, when you see a tree looking so pretty, don’t you just want to say “Hey, really nice outfit!” When I see Bradford Pears, especially if they are in a nice long row, I always think they look like pretty bridesmaids, all dressed up for a big occasion. That’s Spring …Life. No more sleepy Winter… The colors, the sounds, the smells of Spring just wake me up and make me feel so alive! I know I may sound a little crazy, making these trees seem like finely dressed people, but truly, it is their time to show off a little. I am sure it’s been a long hard Winter for those trees too. Let’s all look, savor and enjoy. Even the birds outside seem to be chipper and happy with the change in seasons. Thank you God! You do such great work!

Beauty. It takes so many forms, doesn’t it? Beautiful sunsets, blooming flowers, a fine piece of art, a newborn baby, an elderly couple who have lived life well together… All of these images conjure up thoughts of  loveliness.  I love that. I love searching for those images and moments in my life.  Just a few nights ago, my husband Mike and I were able to experience beauty in the form of music and architecture. We had the privilege of listening to the St Louis Symphony at the beautiful and historic Powell Hall. I had recently purchased tickets to attend the symphony, just for something different to do. Different would not be the way I would describe the evening though. More like “Other Worldly”… Oh my, what an evening!  As Mike and I entered Powell Hall, we were amazed by the architecture and elegance of this building. It was a feast for our eyes. That was truly only the beginning of the amazement, we soon realized as we  were seated and listened for nearly two hours to a concert beyond description.  The orchestra and guest musician, an accomplished violinist, filled the hall with  music that just took my soul to place of peace and tranquility. I could probably spend time here telling you about the music itself, but instead I will tell you my reaction to the music. Gratitude, Awe, Amazement.  Isn’t it wonderful to experience something for the first time, or for the first time in a long time?  As I watched the performers, I was intrigued by their individuality as well as their collective efforts to put music together in a way that was as inspiring as viewing The Grand Canyon or watching a Maui sunset. The experience was much like being in your own private world of enjoyment, yet knowing that hundreds of others sitting alongside you had that same thought going on. The Hall itself is elegant, and the high, domed ceiling is full of intricate detail. Just visualizing the music filling that entire lovely space was one of those “other worldly” emotions I am talking about. If you ever get a chance to attend a good symphony concert, please take advantage of the experience. I can’t imagine you too won’t be in awe.  Maybe it’s already something you enjoy doing and if so, I can certainly understand why.

On a side note here, as I was taking in the entire evening, my mind went back to my girlhood days, being in junior high and high school band. I played the clarinet, and although I would not consider myself gifted in music, I now have a real appreciation for being exposed to a variety of music during those growing up years. I thought of my mom, Ginny, who gave me a memorable gift the year before she died. Mom was a school teacher and in my seventh grade year, she used her first paycheck of the year to buy me a new clarinet. I am sure that paycheck could have been used in countless other ways for our family, not to mention for herself. But, to this day, I still have that clarinet and it has always been a reminder of my mom and her typical generosity as she made sure we had what we needed in life.  I so appreciate that evening of beautiful music the other night, and probably even more so, I appreciate the beauty of a mom who made sure I had a good start to that world of music.