Coptic Dad & Mom

There's nothing more sacred than a feast--whether it's the Feast of the Nativity or the Feast of the Resurrection or even one of the smaller feasts. For years, I celebrated in a very specific way, and now that way has changed dramatically. The eid* looks different when you're a tasoni miles from your family, beginning with the hours before the liturgy.

It used to be that my husband could fix the parts of my hair I couldn't see. I would straight iron it all, then go to him for inspection and correction. I could go to him to check my make-up--"Too much? Not enough? Is it even?" He could entertain our daughter while I dressed and take pictures before we began our journey to church. Now Abouna leaves the house hours before we do for pre-liturgy prayers, and I'm left asking the four-year-old: "Is my hair okay? What about the make-up? Do you like this jewelry with this dress?" Thankfully she's honest and has very good taste.

In the middle of the night, after the liturgy, most churches feed congregants. Because my family lived two hours away from church, we would always pile in the car immediately after the liturgy ended and eat cold Egyptian fried chicken breast sandwiches to break fast (courtesy my Teta*) while we drove home. Now church and home are separated by a five-minute drive, and I have no excuse not to go into the dining hall and eat amazing hot food... except that I am not at all used to that. I sat in the quiet of the sanctuary just listening to the muffled bustling of people on the other side of the wall, happy to be part of a wonderful new church family, sad to not have my sisters and oldest friends near me for pictures.

Although our churches have always had a Resurrection Feast picnic in a park, my family never attended. We were blessed to have extended family members living short distances from each other. We didn't need the adopted church family to celebrate with. I always went to my aunt's house first thing in the morning and had a sharp cheddar cheese sandwich for lunch while watching crazy amounts of home-cooking happen in anticipation of a huge dinner. This year, for the first time ever, I had to buy my own block of sharp cheddar and hold back tears as I thought "I may never break fast at her house with her cheddar ever again..." I went to the church picnic (and had a great time, of course) and always will now because Abouna can't skip a church function for the sake of old traditions. I had to cook my own feast meal... realizing that Teta, Mama, or a Tante would not be there to cook it for me anymore. For the first time, for better, for worse, I was an adult doing my own frantic home-cooking for the eid.

*Arabic for feast
*Grandma