Many of my friends spend the night before Easter much like the night before Christmas… getting their house ready for the early morning magic
madness of making memories.
The kids will wake up early and hunt like scavengers (read as… there will be fights) for those baskets of colored eggs.
Baskets, undoubtedly overstuffed with love and filled with traditional tot treats of jellybeans, yellow marshmallow peeps (still trying to guess what food group they land in?) solid chocolate bunnies, and classic signs of spring: sidewalk chalk and bubbles.
Those same friends will be pulling tangled Easter grass from the vacuum cleaner for months; they’ll find dusty jellybeans lost behind the couch, gone unnoticed until someone finds one and tries to eat it.
Those same friends will be wiping chocolate from faces, furniture, and all household fixtures for days. The signs of Easter morning last longer than the basket raid.
They just don’t last long enough.
The signs are all around my house, signs that kids don’t live here anymore.
My daughters are grown,
..they’ve taken their Easter bonnets, moved on and since moved away.
Everything at my house is in its place and it doesn’t often change.
There are no jellybeans to rescue from under the couch, no Easter grass to untangle.
At our house, the traditional Easter basket has moved on as well.
The tot years transitioned to the teen years and beyond.
The basket has morphed into a more practical container for my daughters, like a large plastic laundry basket… and it’s stuffed with timely, age-appropriate treats now: Amazon gift cards, subway tokens, bags of Starbucks’s coffee, essential oils, and a new toothbrush (because they’d rather spend their money on coffee than a new toothbrush). A mom just knows this is true.
I know something else too.
I know what I want in my Easter basket. I want a few more
hours days years with my grown girls. I want to turn over the vacuum cleaner and get frustrated because it’s tangled with Easter grass. I want to stop them from eating that dusty jellybean.
Or maybe just let them go ahead and eat it. I’ll just look the other way and pretend that I don’t see it. This time.
Give me back those times when I had my family all in one place. Those days that went by when I wasn’t looking. Over-stuff my basket with some memories.
It’s the only thing on my
Easter bucket list.
- So, should we do it the same way next Easter? (thyrkas.wordpress.com)