The Easter Bunny is a Jack-a-lope
As I lay in bed feverish and about
to fall asleep I saw him from behind as he jumped over the backyard fence, his
white cotton tail reflecting moonlight. Is this where the term ‘mooning’ came
from? He was small, brown with big bunny ears tilted back for speed. He carried
no Easter baskets for other children. He must have brought mine and two for my
older brothers. I suppose he was headed back to his stash to cover the rest of
the neighborhood. Like Santa Claus he had a lot of ground to cover before dawn.
I did not check to see if my
Easter basket was delivered outside my bedroom door because I had one foot in
dreamland and being sick with chicken pox I had no appetite for candy anyway.
We lived in Revere in a two-family
house across from a fire station. There was an upright piano that came with the
apartment which my mom painted chartreuse, her favorite color. I was told there
was no room for a horse in the back yard despite my continual pleading. We
lived in this house a block from a private beach within walking distance to my
grandparent’s house and the small Catholic church we attended. It was a
comfortable community with a fair amount of Jews which established my
preference for Bulkie Rolls which were called Kaiser Rolls in other places.
Point of Pines did not have a lot of
pine trees. They must have cut them all down to build houses. On the other side
of the Lynnway lived Nanny and Papa in a small cape that looked just like all
the other houses in what some called the “Cardboard Village” because it was
quickly built to accommodate all the GI’s coming home form WWII which my
grandparents somehow qualified for due to Papa’s stint in the Navy long before
the war. I heard they paid something like $3K for the house, that wouldn’t even
make a down payment today. They loved living only a block from the water and
made friends with all their neighbors and took in stray cats, making sure all
the pets that got killed crossing the Lynnway had a proper burial in their
yard.
It was April 1950 and chicken pox
was in bloom and I was quarantined in my bedroom by the doctor who made house
calls.
My mom was pregnant with my sister
Valerie. Mom was enjoying having a little girl after two boys and bought me a
special coat outfit for Easter. It must have been a chilly April because it was
made of sea green wool with matching leggings and bonnet. It was not what you
would typically think of for Easter but being only three, I was thrilled to
have a special outfit which was probably picked up by Nana who worked at
Filene’s in Boston. My new outfit hung on a hanger from the curtain rod over
the window which had the shade pulled all day to prevent the light from hurting
my eyes which I guess could get pox on them judging by all the time I spent in
a darkened room lonely and bored with no one to play with. Maybe that’s why the
Saturday night before Easter, I lifted the shade and saw a bunny hopping over
the back fence and out of sight.
Sickness was a time when my Mom was
an extra good mom. She knew I was sad to be missing the family activities and
unable to even try on a scratchy wool outfit. The solid fudge egg from Fanny
Farmer’s decorated with pastel flowers and leaves sat in its box. A white
porcelain diaper pail was positioned next to my bed in case I got sicker.
Forty Aprils later, I was a mother
myself with three sons all taking turns with Chicken pox. First the 8 year-old
gets a mild case, number two son gets a much worse case followed by the baby
who got it the worst, but at least he felt like one of the gang and we all got
through it somehow over the five long weeks. I documented it all taking pix of
them in their Underoos holding little slate that said Chicken Pox 1989.
No Easter baskets have ever been
delivered to our kids much as I miss the solid fudge egg and the fuzzy little
chicks that decorated my basket. Even though I saw Mr. Easter Bunny with my own
eyes I realize now it was probably a dream.
Today I realize this cultural
concoction is more of a Jack-o-lope; a patching together of Pagan and Christian
religions. Have you ever seen a Jack-o-lope driving through western states
where they have them stuffed for display in gas stations and depicted on post
cards? They’re a cross between a Jack rabbit and an antelope with antlers.
Since the Chicken Pox Vaccine
became a routine since 1995 fewer kids get them. Now we have other things to
worry about. Are the vaccines causing autism, ADHD or the many other diseases
and disorders that are on the rise? Should we be more discriminating about what
Mr Jack-a-lope delivers? Maybe we should just say ‘no’ to Mr. Jack-o-lope and
all the sugar he brings setting kids up for obesity, diabetes and tooth decay.
(I am working on chapter 2 of this topic
for our Marriage and Family in the End Times Book)
Chris Noonan Funnell April 11,
2014
