Peeps are Gross
Showing off my $50 winning egg contents to my brother, Jeremy.
Even though I think Peeps are disgusting, Easter is my favorite holiday. I’ve been a fan my entire life, mostly because I’ve won the Annual Braun Family Egg Hunt 36 out of my 42 years. This is quite a record considering the brutal nature of this event. I’ve been tripped, held down, tackled, shoved—those are just interactions I had with my late Aunt Peggy.
Even when I was pregnant, my fellow egg hunters (my husband included) didn’t take it easy on me, instead considering it a chance to take advantage of my handicap. I’ll admit, I bring most of this on myself. Frequently reminding the other participants that ‘all is fair in love and egg hunts’ while bragging about my undeniable superiority and natural ability make me a prime target. I realize that natural ability comes from the fact that my brain is wired very similarly to my father, who is the master egg hider. I always manage to guess where he has hidden the $50 golden egg every year.
Midnight ascension at Holy Cross Immaculata Church, Cincinnati, OH.
My other favorite event of Easter weekend is the annual trip to Holy Cross Immaculata Church to pray the rosary while ascending the steps. My mother and I have gone at midnight for more than 15 years and have recently starting including my sons in the tradition. The night sky is peaceful and I take a moment to silently be grateful on each step. And while I benefit from this pilgrimage—I cherish the time with my mother and sons—I’m not sure I’m connecting with God like I’m assuming is the point.
You see, Easter is also a struggle for me. I struggle to buy into the resurrection from a factual standpoint. I struggle with feeling like a hypocrite who goes through the motions while having so many doubts and uncertainties about religion and the Catholic church. I struggle with a desire to be more spiritual that is almost always outweighed by my skepticism.
I’m not sure how to overcome this struggle or if I even want to. I find ridiculous amounts of value in the community aspects of church and school. I’ve found a place where I’m accepted and belong. But ultimately, I’m struggling to reconcile the intellectual with the spiritual.
I assumed as I got older these things would become obvious, but I’m more confused now than ever before. Part of Midlife Pickle is understanding my spiritual side. As I contemplate my mortality, I want to be sure I’ve done all I can to prepare for what happens when I no longer exist in my current form. Or maybe there’s nothing to prepare for. Maybe we just cease to exist. I don’t know and I wonder if I ever will.
I’d love to hear where you stand on spirituality and religion. Are you a believer? How have you come to terms with your spirituality? What is your understanding of God?
