Easter memories

When I was younger, Easter weekend was fun and event-filled. I'd head off to my grandparent's house Thursday evening and spend Good Friday and Saturday with my dad's side. We'd eat yummy local Japanese food, decorate eggs, and play my aunty's crazy game inventions. Sunday, I'd head home in time for Easter Mass. Spend all day with my mom's side dyeing eggs and have the hardest Egg Hunt EVER, with the traditional glazed ham, oven-roast turkey, and fruit ambrosia.

At lot has changed: the "working world" does not observe Good Friday, I still spend Saturday with my dad's side, same food, new games. Sunday no longer includes Mass (not that I'm rebelling religion, I just seems like the right thing to do. If I can't go, with a positive attitude and be willing to get something out of it, then I really shouldn't be there), and instead of a grand hunt and feast, the day is spent with our immediate families with either a brunch buffet or small potluck with fruit ambrosia.

This will be the first Easter since my dad passed away, and it will be Ella's first ever. Of course I'm happy to spend the holiday with her, but I can't help but feel a little sad. It's like those bad breakups -- where you can't go to a restaurant because you had a memorable date. I feel like I can't celebrate Easter because my dad isn't there to pull a nylon stocking over his head and go around cracking everyone's beautifully decorated eggs (one of my aunty's crazy game inventions). But, it's Ella's first and it should be memorable. She won't remember it, but I will.

Hoppy Easter weekend everyone!


Basket for Ells, mommy, and daddy!