Easter

Heading into Easter definitely makes me think about Mom and Dad.  For very different reasons:

Dad-
Like most families, coloring eggs the night before was a ritual.
We would get up and try not to peek around to see where the eggs were hidden.  When we lived in the Bronx they were hidden around the apartment.  When we moved out of the city, the hunt would be outside.  As we got older and the grandchildren arrived, Dad would conduct 2 Easter Eggs hunts.  One for the kids and one for the adults.  It is amazing how fast you can go back to being a kid as you race around  the yard trying to finds more eggs than your siblings even if we were in out 20's.
Dad always made sure the cellophane on the sides of the Easter Basket were sealed tight with scotch tape so we couldn't squeeze our hands in the basket before church. 
Many Easter's we would make the trip from the Bronx to my Dad's sister's house on Long Island.  We would pick up my grandmother on the way.  We would have a great time with our cousins but I know Dad always dread the long ride home once again stopping to drop off my grandmother. 

Mom-
Easter prep started for Mom with shopping trips to get us new Easter outfits usually at Alexander's Department store. Dresses, hats, gloves, pocketbooks and new shiny shoes.  The night before Easter she would let us lay out our new clothes and I usually went to bed with my hair in curlers. 
As we got older and had moved out on our own, Mom would make Easter brunch.  The table would be set with the good China,  The centerpiece would have some branches with flowers starting to bud and colorful eggs hanging from the tree.  She would make a wonderful breakfast and by early afternoon we would each head off to do our own thing.  I don't know how she pulled it off getting everything to the table hot but she did. 

Maybe because they are both gone now I find myself thinking more about the Easter's past.  I am not sure what we will do next Sunday.  We may meet some friends for breakfast and I will try to make something special for dinner.  Maybe I will even use my good China.  No matter what we do it won't compare with those family gathering where we ran to find the eggs while my Dad watched and laughed.  Or where Mom fussed over the table and prepared the foods we all loved.

I miss those days......