Friday, March 21, 2008

Happy Easter

Dear Mama,
It's almost Easter. The holidays make me miss you even more than usual. For some reason Easter is actually harder than all of the other holidays, except for Christmas maybe. Today I tried my hand at starting my own traditions for the kids while trying to weave in some of the traditions from my childhood. Michael boiled some eggs and while the little kids were asleep (we babysit a little boy twice a week now) Hunter and I had an outdoors tea party and then we colored in coloring books on the quilt for a while. We sat among the buttercups. The people who lived in this house before us probably had a gazebo which would explain why there is a giant circle of buttercups in our front yard. I have considered burying your ashes in the center of the circle, should I ever possess them. The buttercups make me think of you so much. Today we dyed the hard boiled eggs and then made them into "rock stars" thanks to some silly kit I got on clearance at Kmart right after you died. Then I filled all of my plastic eggs (same ones I've had since Hunter was first born) with vegan chocolate chips, spelt ginger cookies, and organic cereal. As I was hiding them for the kiddos, I went to drop one into the center of a buttercup and suddenly, I was overcome by emotions and a flood of memories. I remembered hunting eggs at Mammy's and Pappy's every year. I remembered the buttercups and how they were everywhere. And there would be eggs hidden inside of them. And in the old abandoned tires. And that old red water pump. And in the cracks on the porch. And in the bushes. If it rained, and it did a few years, you would just hide the eggs indoors and it was just as much fun. I remember that Daddy would peel egg after egg and eat so many I wondered how he didn't get sick. And I remember the special prize eggs that would be wrapped in foil and filled with money. Most of all, I remember that every single year ` of my life, I had an Easter basket. Until you were gone. I guess it was time for me to grow up. But man how I wish I could receive some silly Easter basket from you. This year, I'd have asked for money to buy the new B-52's cd that comes out Tuesday, some new Burt's Bees Lip Shimmers, and some new underwear.

I promised myself that I wouldn't cry. So much for that.

I love you, Moozie.
Punkin

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

you know, i was at church sunday morning and our pastor mentioned something about egg hunting and prize eggs, all i could think of was sitting at mammy & pappy's with mom and joan on the porch with nanny, mammy, & pappy on the porch in their rocking chairs. It took all I had not to start balling right there in the middle of service. Then he went on to mention we would see our loved ones again. For some reason i was really emotional also. It's sad cause I know the kids will have tradition but nothing like what we had. It's sad and heart breaking. also, i remember sitting with your dad on that same porch eating those boiled eggs. i remember making mom boil extra's for me to take just for me and him to eat. I love you and this really touched me...

Cindy Phiffer said...

Dear Mandy,

I just found this blog. Oh, my goodness, honey. These are extremely powerful in their honesty and natural rhythm. Bless you, sweet girl.

Love,
Cindy