I have been dreaming of little people in red cassocks and white surplices carrying candles and incense, and the long line of them never ends. It lasts forever, like one of those GIFs on Facebook. This, I imagine, is what the DMV will look like in heaven.
When I awaken, my pillow smells of incense.
In the shower, I find stray pieces of wax in unlikely places.
My wife says “Good morning.” I chant in reply: “And with your spirit.”
My right arm aches from using the aspergillum.
I am shocked that I actually know how to spell aspergillum.
I resist the urge to genuflect as my wife brings me a cup of coffee.
The coffee tastes of incense.
I log on to my laptop to check the day’s news and am shocked to see no mention of a deacon in Queens who survived eight liturgies in four days. Where is this news??
“Experts could not confirm the medical circumstances surrounding his survival, since most ordinary people would have expired after the three-hour Easter Vigil. Sources who did not wish to be named suggested the deacon may have survived on a combination of adrenalin, caffeine, Reese’s peanut butter eggs and grace.”
Instead, I’m reading about Ted Cruz, Batman and Superman.
My Entenmann’s coffee cake tastes like incense.
I return to bed. What day is it?
Below, highlights of the Easter Vigil, including part of the Exsultet and the gorgeous singing of our choir, from photographer Rosalind Chan