I went with my family to an Easter Brunch near the St. Lawrence River. It felt like a homecoming in many ways; I hadn’t seen the river in a few months, and my heart swelled to see her. Like a vibrant ribbon against brown fabric, the bright blue-green of the river certainly gave a spring feel to an otherwise sleepy land that hasn’t quite woke up after winter.
As I took in the majesty, I reflected on how lucky I am as a Pagan. Sure, there were times in the past where I resented celebrating my Christian family’s holidays while they could barely remember mine. Things have changed. We’ve all grown. My family has worked to show respect to me and my path. I think it’s cute how my mother gives me Easter cards but crosses out her holiday’s name and writes “Spring Equinox” in its place. It’s the little things, right? It’s helped me feel more accepted, and I’ve become less threatened acting; more accepting myself. I’ll be the first to wish them a “Happy Easter,” and I gave my niece Easter stickers in a basket with other goodies.
I thank the Kindreds for how lucky I am. I sometimes get annoyed that my family doesn’t celebrate my holidays more, but they make gestures. Honestly, I’m just happy to be together. So many in Pagan traditions live in fear of their family finding out, or they’ve actually been isolated because of it. Meanwhile, tempers are flaring in the Pagan and Polytheist communities, and the world at large is so full of hate and chest thumping…
I’m not sure how the world could become a more peaceful place, but I’m glad that my daughter and niece get to experience different traditions and see that we can still love one another and find commonalities.