Easter was always a childhood nightmare for me. A time when my parents couldn’t hold back the pressures of depression, financial insecurity, and alcoholism, and all would come crashing down on us. There were broken eggs, drunken crawls across kitchen floors, and the declarative droning of Charleston Heston in the background, parting the Red Sea.
I began to see the propitiousness of Easter after my children were born (totally used the thesaurus for ‘propitiousness’). The giddy joy of egg hunts, the over-indulgence of chocolate, the pursuit of the perfect outfit and basket. My ex’s cousin made the holiday for me and I felt my own rebirth of hope and happiness being with my children and extended family.
This Easter has confirmed my love of hope, and my inability to let it go. I don’t always feel my own resilience. I don’t always feel a purposeful direction for myself. But I have a renewed respect and appreciation for waiting, sitting, watching, and being. Easter encourages me to tap into my inner strengths and to recognize a grace that is available to me. I recognize a warm internal peace that is waiting for my company.
Today my housemate and I will work on finding that fragile balance between tradition and newness. We will lean into what has been lost, and what we may find when we allow ourselves discovery. It will have to be ok to be sad, while permitting some happiness, and maybe even some joy to enter in.
Brooklyn to Belfast 
Oh my. The picture of Milo in his Easter outfit stopped my heart.
I know how you feel. I long for some little kids to do an egg hunt with. I did the obnoxious outfits with E and G and am so glad I did; they are some of my most cherished photos. And LOVED doing themed Easter baskets, I am such a cornball: One year musical instruments, the next garden things, then science toys, then arts and crafts, then books… you get the stupid picture. Oh how I miss that. This year Amazon sent them each a muffin tin.
So now we look for the glory and the peace and love near us and far off. I gave a little basket to the two little girls across the street, called my ex-sister in law in MO who now suffers from early onset Alzheimers but remembers me and our many Easters together well, and will cook a FaceTime dinner with E and G. My magnolia’s glory will start to fade and get messy, as all glories do, making way for new ones. My personal worries are small and probably unfounded in the long term, and it’s been wonderful to have almost a month of enforced vacation alone with Pete. Each day we find a way to shove the darkness away for a bit. I envy you all the little people you get to surround yourself with there. They bring constant joy. May we look forward to the deep real hugs that wait for us at the end of these days. Love to you Sister mom.
LikeLike
Love you too, SisterMama. xo
LikeLike
I never knew that was your childhood! I’m glad you found peace… and have your dog with you! Happy Easter, my friend from Elementary school!! Stay well!!
LikeLike
Thank you Sara. I’ve loved seeing your journey, as well. It is good to be in touch. I hope you and yours are safe and healthy.
Much love, Pam
LikeLike