I remember being a little girl, probably 7 or 8, and standing on my bed to look out my window to see if the Easter Bunny had come yet. I was always so excited when I could see something he left from my bedroom window or down that side of the house. That of course would trigger me running and jumping onto my brother's bed to wake him up (geeeez always the sleepy head) so that we could go egg hunting. Mom and Dad, of course were already awake with coffee in hand, they would take us outside in our jammies so that our hunt could begin.
Some things were easy to find, eggs on the grass or on the bench that surrounded our patio. Things always got more complicated the more we looked. We would find those eggs hidden in planters, hanging plants and even stuck between tree branches. We were never much of a church going family but we always had a good time and it was just accepted that no matter where we were God was there with us.
I remember Easter mornings all the way until we went overseas to Libya. I'll have to ask dad if we still celebrated Easter after that. I don't remember.
I do remember celebrating Easter with my children and their Grandfather. Dad has always been in charge of the eggs and making sure we got them colored in time and rubbed with bacon fat to make them shiny. He has also been in charge of making sure that we knew how many eggs he and I hid so none would get lost; I'm assuming that is one of those hidden life lessons that just gets passed down without ever saying anything.
Even though I'm a fairly early riser it has always been a challenge to get the Easter Bunny organized before the kids were organized for the kids. Sometimes Grandpa would take them on an Easter Bunny hunt with the salt shaker so that I could set things up. What was the salt shaker for? Well to this day Dad has the kids convinced that if you put salt on the Easter Bunny's tail then you get to keep him. Eliza doesn't think that would be very nice since then there wouldn't be Easter anymore. Then it runs through my head... how did we get from the rising of Christ to the Easter Bunny...? Some of our traditions still surprise me. And now even as an adult, somehow the Easter Bunny always leaves something for me to find.
There is of course less candy now for my kids... they would rather have money to go to the mall and buy clothes (at least two of them) so that always makes them happy, but they also still love looking for those eggs and the baskets. What fun. I wonder this year what they will be doing. I have always insisted on having the kids for Easter Sunday, but this year I have agreed to let them go to their dad's... so I wonder what the Easter Bunny is suppose to do from my point of the world? Does he still come but not with eggs, with something else... time for a new tradition, a new something to be passed down through the next generations. Maybe a scavenger hunt around the house following clues with some money in an envelope at the end of the Bunny's trail. That could be fun... would take some creative thinking, but that hasn't ever been a challenge for me... sounds like a good tradition to me.
Somewhere along the line Dad started the tradition of yellow roses on Good Friday. I don't know when or how that really got started. But I know this morning the first thing I did was go to the store and get a dozen yellow roses for the middle of the table and a bottle of wine. Somethings just are and are meant to be... traditions passed down and through generations and woven through lives like red threads that slowly develop and get stronger as one gets older - or at least they mean more as we get older... get older I hate that phrase, how about this... as we get wiser... at least that gives me the dignity of thinking I'm getting smarter.