Perhaps Next Year

Last year, I had high Easter expectations. I thought and hoped this Easter would be different.

I had dreams and high hopes for my babies/would-be toddlers dressed in their Sunday best, being oohed and ahhed over. We would take pictures of them with the scary, freaky looking Easter bunny at the mall and they'd more than likely cry. They would wear pastel overalls adorned with fuzzy bunnies or choo-choo trains and have the slightest of curls in their strawberry blond hair. I would swear they were the most beautiful in all the land. And I'd believe it.

I'd spend the day before boiling and coloring Easter eggs, making sure they were perfect. They would be extraordinary, not just the typical solid color eggs. Of course if you know me at all, you'd know that I'd do that anyway, with or without the wee ones. In fact, I did.

We'd go to church, because that's what good Christian families do. I'd drag the whole family with me and they'd go with me without argument, because we feel obligated to go twice a year. It's a shame, but it's true.

Afterwards, we'd all gather back at my Mom's for lunch of ham and canned or frozen spring veggies. I'd bring along a showstopper homemade dessert and we'd eat til we were so full that we'd all take naps on the couch or in the sought after recliner. I'm not a napper, so I'd go out back and hide the pastel eggs. Then I'd follow them around with an annoying camera in their faces and take pictures-lots of them, just so I could email them to all my friends and family and show off just how sweet they are. If I already send you emails, prepare yourself for what's to come.

I don't know why Easter holds so much for me, but it does. Maybe it's because it's a time of sunshine, of growth, of birth-- of renewal.

Like I said last year "Perhaps next year" will be different.

Happy Easter to all of you with and without your children.


These are blooms from Mr. H's grandmother's bougainvillea. When we went down last week for the funeral, I took several pictures because it's the fullest and most impressive I've ever seen it. It had the most beautiful fuchsia petals and tiny white blossoms. The bush was about 10 feet high and the entire length of the fence. Since her house was on a corner, you can see it from several blocks away-- like a hot pink stop sign.