I’m going to be out of town this weekend, but as we were walking through the grocery store the other day, Second Child was at pains to point out to me “the good chocolate rabbits.”
“I’m going to be away this weekend, remember? Anyway, you’re 15 and your brother is practically a grown-up,” I said. “Aren’t you getting a little too old for Easter baskets?”
She was indignant. “You’re never too old for chocolate bunnies,” she said.
I must say that even as my traditional sense of religiosity was waning (never send your kid to a church-owned college if you want them to grow up believing), I still loved Easter. Maybe part of this is because I grew up in the South where Easter really did mark a time of rebirth and the reawakening of the earth (it never occurred to me at that tender age that the earth is vitally alive at every part of the year, but, you know).
Easter meant church, a new outfit–and, yes, chocolate bunnies and a baked ham dinner. For my kids it’s always meant chocolate bunnies and a new book. And a baked ham dinner.
Here in the frozen north, where I had to scrape ice off my windshield before driving Second Child to school yesterday and where there were snow flurries yesterday afternoon, we do see spring coming back at last. And even though a check of the weather for the mountains where I’ll be spending the weekend has prompted me to add a wool sweater to my backpack and throw my winter parka into the trunk of the car, the spring light is here.
And, yes, before I go I’m leaving some Easter goodies in the tender care of my Better Half, who has promised to deliver them to the kids on Sunday morning. And if I get back in time on Sunday afternoon I may even pull off that baked ham dinner. If not, it will materialize at some point during the coming week.
However you celebrate, I hope you’re with people you love this weekend, and who love you. And that spring, whatever form it takes where you live, is springing.