Appreciate Traditions: They Will Change
Easter One Year Ago
Our oldest granddaughter, Jodi, arrived on Easter carrying a dirt cake complete with edible grass and peeps (marshmallow bunnies).
At first glance, her long blonde hair and lanky legs forced a flashback of her mother at the same age. With the cake placed on the kitchen island, Jodi returned outside to retrieve the cookies, chocolate no-bakes shaped like nests holding multi-colored, malted eggs. Dessert was her contribution to the holiday. Following in her Great Grandma Connie’s footsteps, she experimented with new recipes that challenged her creativity.
Also, like Grandma Connie she never believed in having too many sweets on the table.
As Jodi walked out, her little sister, Eliza, charged into the room delivering hugs, talking nonstop and showing off the eggs the Easter Bunny had delivered that morning. She informed everyone (in a manner that demanded attention) where they discovered the first egg, how multiple eggs littered the upstairs playroom, why she at first believed the Easter Bunny had forgotten, how relieved she felt that he remembered, and which unlocked bedroom window he entered through. Her monologue continued even though our attention started to fade; Eliza never really stops talking. We heard about the Easter basket contents and watched as she modeled her new shoes.
A thought of the past flashed in my mind and I thought, “Eliza is a replica of Aunt Kat at that age.” When Eliza’s parents walked in, her volume lowered, and they consumed the spotlight. A thought of rebirth and resurrection across my mind, when I spotted Kat and her family park their grey Ford across the street.During the next thirty minutes, more family and friends arrived but less ceremony accompanied each visitor. Shortly, the room was booming with conversation absorbing fresh faces as they joined the group.
Time Changes Family Roles
The conversation quieted and everyone gathered at the door when Great Grandpa and Karen pulled into the driveway. A couple family members walked out to help carry their meal contributions, and others directed Dad’s walker over the bumps in the driveway. At eighty-five, his body moved slowly but his mind was sharp. He appreciated the jokes which are never absent in this crowd. Linda loudly (practically screaming to allow her words to be amplified by Dad’s hearing aids) prodded him with humor, “Hey old man. At this rate Easter will be over before you get seated.” Anyone new to the group might have stared with mouth agape but we laughed — as did Dad. He valued a healthy joke.
Individuals gathered into groups mostly assembled by age. The “kids” (parents of the babies) hovered around the food. The “parents” now labeled grandparents sat in the living room and talked — a muted TV transmitted golf. Before too long “the guys” retreated to the garage, grabbed a beer and returned. I mentally noted the role changes of family members. Over time changes had occurred, and duties shifted from one generation to the next.
Easter Scavenger Hunt
Within moments the children began reading clues and searching for eggs. A scavenger hunt held their attention for over an hour as they analyzed pictures, located their positions inside and outside the house, and discovered the eggs hidden near-by. Periodically, adults aided when they couldn’t decipher a clue.
“That’s Papa’s shoe.”
“We thought that but it’s not in his closet.”
“Where else do we keep shoes?”
“In the mudroom.”
And before finishing the sentence, they were off and running. Jodi led the hunt, followed by Eliza, and trailing behind ran Kinsley. It reminded me of my girls with their cousins years ago. Back then all six cousins hunted for eggs, Haley, the youngest, scurried behind exclaiming, “Me too.” After a while, we substituted that for her given name. Due to Kinsley’s behavior she earned the name “Me Too” and wears it fashionably. All the while, the girls shoveled candy into their mouths so quickly I worried they youngest might choke.
Instead of taking candy away, I decided to turn my attention to dinner — thinking it is probably a greater choking hazard if she started crying with all the candy in her mouth. Childhood is such a brief time in life, I chose to let them enjoy the moment.
I am a member of the older generation.
As my eyes moved around the room, I noticed several faces missing — lost to divorce, death, illness or geographical moves. Some past practices had faded away, but our day still burst with traditions. The family culture was intact simply by gathering together. Children ran around the house; the youngest periodically emitted a high screech of excitement and enthusiasm that is characteristic of a two-year-old. My “children” sitting at the table with their husbands shared stories and laughed; they had grown into adults. I shuddered upon realizing the number I once associated with old matched my age and acknowledged I am a member of the older generation.
So many clichés bounced around in my head:
“Time flies.”
“Don’t blink or life will pass you by.”
“Kids grow so fast.”
“It seems like only yesterday.”
But then I thought, “Time marches on.”
Giving is a blessing not a burden
I think back now to earlier in the week. It is embarrassing to confess at one point I was a little (just a little) grumpy about chores that needed attention: the house cleaning, cooking and the preparations. However, nobody told me to make three kinds of rice. (One spicy with red beans and salsa, a second with pineapple and Spam for my son-in-law who once lived in Hawaii, and a third conventional fried rice.) Nobody expected clean sheets on the bed. (Nobody even saw the sheets on my bed!) Nobody anticipated a scavenger hunt that took me hours to create. (The Easter Bunny had already visited each of the children’s houses!)
I reflected on a quote my mother taught me and smiled, “Love isn’t Love until you give it away.”
When I reread this story from last year, memories flooded back and sparked emotions. This year, due to COVID 19, Easter will again be different. However, I am not sad, maybe melancholy, but not sad. This year as we make small sacrifices for our community and the world by staying home, I thank Jesus for the ultimate sacrifice of his life for our salvation. Instead of having a house full of family and friends, we can enjoy the memories and share stories from the past.
I look forward to the possibilities in the next year, but for now appreciate a warm house, the love of my family, and the forgiveness of God. May each of you accept what we have and not dwell on what is missing.
He Is Risen.
He Is Risen Indeed!
For more stories of family and love, come visit my blog, I AM My Best!
