My name means Sunday (or if you want to get really ticky "of God"). I was named after my father but my name has a special connection to Easter. My mother constantly reinforced in her children that they were special. She had done everything she could to overcome some pretty harsh realities and disadvantages: a peasant girl who spoke no English in the cold harshness of New York and a life worthy of any soap opera, of which I was a burdensome part.
So, her kids would be - and they became - her finest accomplishment. I was the oldest male in an Hispanic household. That alone gave me privilege. But there were other reasons that she doted on me and protected me and instilled in me just how wonderful I am. "You were born," she'd remind me, "on Easter Sunday." And, even though it is a movable feast and never falls on the same date (mine did on my tenth birthday but will never again), she'd say that my father, too, was born on Easter Sunday. "How special is that?" And, she'd tell me, I was born "under the veil. Oh yeah, and on the day of your birth there were 16 earthquakes in PR!"
But a few years ago, I remember getting a Newton. (One of the earlier Apple devices.) I put my birthday into it. It said I was born on a Thursday and I was devastated. I don't mean I was blue or depressed, It was way worse than that. It was like Superman being exposed to Kryptonite. I had been robbed of my super powers. We all knew mami could be the queen of bullshit. But my whole belief system was crushed. My very soul was rocked to its core. This was the real shits. I remember derisively calling myself Jueves. It had such an immense impact on my that my significant other had to console me. Her whole family was really sensitive to the way-too-serious impact this was having on me.
Then just about the time I finally got over it (a few months later), I ran across - of all things - a site that was dedicated to Easter. I put in 1946 and - Halleluhah, it said April 21. You'd have thought I'd won the lottery. (My friends even threw me a celebratory "Domingo" party.) But it meant so much to me because it was all about something my mother had convinced me about: that I'm special, that we're all special. So, Happy Easter to all my peeps, the really special folks.
