There’s something about this time of year that makes it special to me.
I was born and raised Catholic, and by no means am I a religious person. But I respect and value religion because it is a part of how I was raised.
For me this time of year is about god, not about a bunny and chocolates [not that there is something wrong with that]. I know when its Ash Wednesday and Lent.
Growing up, I was not a fan Good Friday. I don’t want to say I hated it, but I dreaded it. My grandmother would not allow me to eat meat at all. I could only have fish. And there would be religious movies in the background. Let’s just say I was not happy.
But I guess something changed in the past few years. Or specifically I changed.
I don’t dread this time of year, but actually look forward to it.
My mother could honestly care less. She would eat meat today. But I don’t, even though no ones preventing me from doing it. I’m not a big fan of fish now, but one day without meat isn’t going to be the end of the world. As a child, I never understood that.
Last year I had a tiny bit of chicken after 12am and felt so guilty [long story is that I came home nearly midnight from an exam with food that had chicken].
I think I changed because of the memories associated with this time of year. Being with family now that I don’t live with them. The atmosphere of being home. My grandmother doing fishcakes or fritas however you call them. The movies playing in the background.
I am not religious or an expert on religion. So I don’t know why we don’t eat meat. And maybe for other people and religions it might be a different thing. But this is how I see it.

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