Happy Belated Birthday/Belated Easter (Beaster?. . . ) !

to you! to me! to my sister! to my three newly hatched neighbors!

I love easter! There are bunnies and chocolate and new things and it's close to my birthday! This year my birthday was in fact on Good Friday. And I kinda love Good Friday. Because it reminds me of me. Allow me to explain.

My sister and I, along with having the same birthday, have the same initials: I.V.S. Her middle name is Vanessa, mine is Veronica. One day we decided to ask our parents who we were named after. Neither were family names, at least not that we recognized. So who were these significant people? Mom turns to my sister first: Well, you're named Vanessa after Vanessa Redgrave. Ah, the illustrious, distinguished, English actress! Wow, that's cool! Especially in light of the fact that my sister's passion in life is acting! Pretty amazing how that worked out. So then I started thinking, wow, I wonder what my name means for my future? Then my Mom turns to me and says, Well, ilvs, we named you Veronica after St. Veronica. Of the Stations of the Cross.

Now, for those of you not raised Catholic, or remotely familiar with this little bit of liturgical lore, the Stations of the Cross is like an illustrated time line of the final day or so of Mr. Jesus Christ. Starting with his condemnation, thru the whole schlepping of the cross bit, and ending with is inevitable crucifixion. Along the way from point A to point B, he falls 3 times. Somewhere between fall number one and fall number two, he meets a kindly, pious woman, who takes pity on his plight and offers him her veil to wipe his face. He does so, returns the veil (pretty sure he said thanks), and on it, left an imprint of his face. That woman is St. Veronica.

Wow, Mom, that's a hell of a story. So, wait, I'm destined to . . what, swab the face of my guru?? Hmmmm. . . So then I turn to my Dad whose standing there, for some kind of something and he just kinda shrugs and points back at my Mom. Thanks, Dad, Mom. Thanks. Really looking forward to that.

***

I told this story to my bff the other day, and after a slight pause she commented, Well, you do clean a yoga studio. Oh. My. God. She's right! I have spent countless hours of my life wiping off yoga mats. Destiny oddly fulfilled! Now how long before I either invent new pants (strauss, levi) or compose a symphonic masterpiece (strauss, richard/johann)? Time will tell, time will tell.