Holidays, Family, and Silence

Happy Easter, readers!

Annual events and holidays tend to make me nostalgic. I think back on what I had done, where I had been, and who was with me on this same day, years past. When I was young, we piled in the station wagon while it was still very dark to attend a 6-something church service. Back then, I think I presumed we went to such an early service so that there was more time for the candy hunt later that day. Now, I suspect we did it to avoid the crowds of church goers who regularly worship only on big church dates like Easter and Christmas.

One year, as Dad turned on the headlights, we watched a bunny lope across the street from our neighbor's house into the swamp.

"It's the Easter Bunny!" I squealed.

"Let's run over it!" said one of my blood-thirsty brothers.

Most years, perhaps all of them, our family enjoyed a big meal, and usually with a guest. Sometimes it was our near-penniless neighbor, sometimes Grandma and Grandpa made the trip up for it, and sometimes we entertained and were entertained by my parents' close friends. There's probably a yellowy picture of each one to chronicle the event.

We never got the huge baskets, wrapped in colored cellophane and overflowing with sugared goodies. And we never got big presents like clothes or a new bike. (It wasn't until high school, I think, that I learned that most of my friends enjoyed a virtual second Christmas on Easter as they showed off their new Walkmans, jewelry, and tennis shoes.) But we did get enough chocolate eggs to fill a cup that we found under sofa cushions, on top of picture frames and doorways, and inside tea cups. We did not complain. (At least I don't think so - Mom and Dad, feel free to set the record straight.)

Getting married and having kids complicated the gatherings, but the big feast, lots of people, and the inevitible egg hunt for the chilluns are pretty reliably present. This year, for me at least, has been significantly different.



I'm home with two dozy greyhounds (we're dogsitting one of them), my baby girl, and the silence that fills the house since Matthew and Leah are out of town. I enjoyed a very nice weekend with all three of my brothers, ending with a belt-loosening breakfast at a local family restaurant this morning. I will not eat ham today, but I did enjoy a peanut-butter and honey sandwich. I will not hunt for eggs or candy, but I did hunt to find matching socks before putting them in the washing machine. I will not entertain guests, but I do very much enjoy the solitude as the window-shaped box of sunlight stretches and migrates across the carpeted floor.

I do miss going for a walk with everyone to help dinner move through our system, and I miss catching up on extended family news. And of course I miss Matthew and Leah. But I'll take this day just as it is for what it is: peaceful, pretty, productive, and pleasant.