My mother and step-father, who married my mother when I was four, are Unitarians. I didn’t know until years later that basically it’s what I call a “feel good” religion, and that you can believe whatever you want and be a Unitarian. They strive to show respect for all religions and enjoy some “Christian” holidays, such as Christmas and Easter, only without the religious bent. Each Christmas, Santa filled our stockings, and each Easter, the Easter Bunny left us treats.
When I was 12 years old, we went to see my step-father’s friend, Russ, on his 40 acre ranch. It was Easter weekend, but I didn’t make any connection between that and the hunting expedition we went on that Saturday. I remember we stopped when we saw some rabbits, and Russ and my step-father stood on a dirt road and emptied their guns attempting to kill a rabbit that was sitting on the road 30 feet ahead of them. They managed to nick its’ ear.
I saw an opportunity to impress my step-father, and jumped at the chance. “Daddy, daddy, can I try?!” He handed me a 12 gauge shotgun, and stood behind me to brace me for the recoil. I raised the shotgun, took aim, and fired. I literally blew its’ guts out. I was so proud. My step-dad was, too, but informed me, “you killed it, you have to go get it”. I walked over to the rabbit, and immediately gagged at the stench. The insides of rabbits STINK. My step-father told me to pick up the rabbit by its nicked ear and bring it over to the truck. We all climbed in, and drove off to another area of the ranch, where we tossed the carcasses of the rabbits we’d killed, their lives taken so they may be used as bait to trap the coyotes that roamed the ranch.
The next morning, the carnage of the day before was a distant memory…it was Easter! Chocolate eggs! Jelly Beans! Stuffed toys! Yeaaaahhhh! I stepped out into Russ’s living room, and, sure enough, there were treats and gifts aplenty waiting for me. And a note. I don’t recall exactly what it said, but the gist of it was “Dear Audra, You shot and killed me yesterday, so this is the last time I’ll be bringing you anything. Thanks a lot. Signed, The Ghost of the Easter Bunny”.
My step-father had a twisted sense of humor.
I’m now a parent myself, only my husband and I are Jehovah’s Witnesses. We don’t celebrate Easter since rabbits and eggs have nothing whatsoever to do with Jesus’ resurrection, and instead are fertility symbols associated with the Spring equinox. We explain to our four year-old daughter that we don’t celebrate Easter, but don’t go into very much detail as to why, since it would be lost on her at this age.
But, if the subject comes up around my parents’, they gleefully tell the story of the year I blew away the Easter bunny.