Tomorrow many of us will celebrate Easter. This holiday is quite late this year and because April is nearing its end, we might expect warm springlike temperatures to greet us over this weekend.
That’s not what’s happening here along the shore of Lake Michigan. 😦 The green stubs of my daffodils have been shivering in the strong lake winds; tomorrow is likely to be a repeat.
Our weather has been a bit like the jelly beans found in an Easter basket—lots of different flavors and usually one or two that are clearly a person’s favorite.
Mine were always the black ones since no one in my family liked them. That way I knew they would last as long as I wanted them to last. Our weather’s been like that also but no one’s has choices lately. It’s mostly been miserable and like the lonely jellybeans left when everyone’s taken what they like. I think all the good weather has gone somewhere, I don’t know where, but here in my neck of the woods we’ve had nothing but bad weather—or those lonely green jelly beans no one wanted in our family. 🙂
In addition to jellybeans in Easter baskets, in my family it’s been tradition to get together at some point during the day. As a child I loved those times because we’d share foods and desserts not usually served outside of that particular holiday. And Easter meant Easter eggs, baskets filled with candy—again not something we’d have much of, and if the Easter bunny was “rich” that year, a toy or something we really wanted. That seemed a fair reward for long hours spent in church during Holy Week services.
When I had my own family and my siblings and their families would gather together for Easter, my sister started the tradition of the Easter egg hunt to give all the little ones something fun to do. One particular Easter we had a glorious, favorite jellybean kind of day. The skies were sunny, the temps warm enough to set up the picnic tables and chairs and serve dinner outside. That also meant the day was perfect to conceal the eggs in spots not so easy to find since the yard had many great hiding places.
My youngest son Steven was the oldest of the group of “little nieces and nephews.” At times he used his oldest title to tease and torment the younger ones. (Probably fueled by the fact that he’d been teased and tormented by his three older brothers.)
Anyway, the rule was “find your own egg and if you find someone else’s egg, don’t reveal the location.” Well, all the little ones found their eggs rather quickly while all of us adults enjoyed the activity. However, Steven couldn’t find his egg. My sister kept giving him hints and he’d scurry off looking but couldn’t find it. The younger ones loved that they beat Steven in finding their egg and those got their baskets filled with the kind of candy they liked.
Now Steven loves candy and he had his reputation to maintain as smartest and oldest; needless to say, he felt thwarted. His face was turning redder and his temper was rising. I’m sure it didn’t help that two of his brothers were “egging” him on. Finally, after about half an hour of his frantic looking, and the final hint from my sister, Steven found his egg and got his Easter basket full of candy.
We still remember that beautiful Easter when we picnicked outside and foiled Steven. I thought of it today especially as my nephew, now a father, sent a photo of his daughter on an Easter egg hunt. Time flies…
This Easter many of those who picnicked with us that day are no longer here: my two sons, John and Jimbo; my sister’s beloved husband, Erik; my mother; my two brothers, Jerry and Ed. The “little nieces and nephews” are grown and celebrating with families of their own. My oldest son is in Alaska. One sister will be out of town and my brother lives in California and will be celebrating Easter with his family and friends out there.
We will be a small group—my sister who started the egg hunt tradition, our youngest son, Steven, hopefully feeling well enough to be in his wheelchair, my hubby and I. We won’t be picnicking outside but at my dining room table. We won’t be doing an Easter egg hunt. But we have phones to connect us to those not here with us. We have Facebook and email too. And we have our memories of those departed. They will linger with us while we gather for we carry them always in our hearts.
I’m hoping for a few black jelly beans in addition to our traditional Easter ham.
I hope you all have the Easter you want. And I hope you get all your favorite jellybeans.