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Nurse Judy’s Nook: Geriatric Easter

Geriatric Easter

Easter is a lovely holiday. Its religious message is uplifting. It happens at that loveliest time of year — springtime. The world is renewing with green leaves and the first flowers of the season.

It is a time for parades, Easter bunnies, chocolates, peeps, jelly beans and colored eggs. It is the season when families shop for new Easter outfits.

Easter dinners are planned featuring ham, sweet potatoes and pecan pie. Ah yes, Easter is a lovely holiday.

As I decorate the house, I think about all the Easters of my youth.

I remember the long curls, big hair bows, puff-sleeved dresses and patent-leather shoes I wore to ring the church bell for our small-town Easter service.

I think about the Easters when my children were small and the pleasure they gave me by their excitement and delight over the season.

Ah yes, Easter was a lovely holiday.

Then I think about Easter today.

My two housemates show little excitement and delight as the season approaches. Nurse Judy, my materialistic alter-ego, focuses only on getting a new outfit.

I try to tell her this is a non-issue as we go to a sunrise service where many of the folks are in their PJs and robes. S

till, Nurse Judy wants a new Easter outfit. Beebe Baloo, my cat, shows only a short-lived interest in the decorations, batting a few fake eggs and pulling at the ribbon holding up the bunnies strung on the mantelpiece.

After all his main interest is his stomach and he doesn’t eat eggs or chocolate.

No, my roommates are not making Easter a lovely holiday.

I decide that what matters is me. I will enjoy Easter. The season is lovely. I do notice, however, that along with green leaves and flowers come huge loads of pollen, which turn me into a sniffling, sneezing mess. This is not the way to have a lovely Easter.

To appease Nurse Judy and still be sensible, I agree to buy a new simple skirt and blouse for the sunrise service. I’m sure you’ve guessed that the skirt was festooned with layers of ruffles and the blouse dripped rhinestones and sequins. Following her shopping, we would be the most out-of-place, over-dressed folks there.

I look at the basket filled with pretty eggs. Well, I can’t eat those — too much cholesterol. I look at the chocolate and other candy. Well, I can’t eat those — I’m too fat. I open the fridge and gaze at the foods waiting for Easter dinner — ditto on my new dietary restrictions for cholesterol and calories.

This doesn’t bode well for a lovely Easter. Maybe we’ll go to a parade. I’ll put on Nurse Judy’s outlandish outfit with my sensible pumps and her lace pantyhose, and plop a Seminoles cap on my head. We’ll start down the path. My bad knees will begin to grumble and we will turn back. We’ll watch a parade on TV in the afternoon.

But, what about the service? At the service, we’ll be hungry, inappropriately dressed, sniffling and coughing, and rubbing our sore knees. We’ll realize we are old. We are not the same. Easter is not the same. What happened to our lovely Easter?

But, we will listen to the message. It will be uplifting. Serenity will surround us as we gaze at the lake. Around us will be green leaves and flowers. We’ll realize that we will be blessed to be able to take part in another Easter celebration.

Ah yes, Easter is a lovely holiday — even for the old.

More later,