Ghosts of Easter Past

It's Easter Sunday. It's that day when Jesus rises again to remind us that winter is over and the living win.

So, why do I feel so beaten? Let me dissect the weekend.

Good Friday
The day began with a college visit. It's an exciting time for our son who is exploring his options. When a friend asked if we wanted to go, we couldn't say no. The particular college happens to be on Cole's short list. In theory, it was a good day. We were with good friends touring a pretty campus with knowledgeable and enthusiastic tour guides. The only problem? Cole really liked it. He really liked Iowa State University. The interstate rival of my alma mater. Don't get me wrong. I'm very happy he's beginning to narrow his choices. Very happy. But I won't deny the inner turmoil I feel when I imagine him wearing red and gold.

Holy Saturday
Saturday was lovely and warm. I spent the day with the boys prepping for guests since it was my turn to host for the holiday. By all accounts, it was a nice evening with good laughs, good stories, and good food. I hardly had time to think of Cole's impending college choice.

Throwback Easter. 10 years ago.

But there was something else niggling at me.

The absence of our eldest.

Easter Sunday
It's the first Easter in 22 years that we haven't been seen Alex. No longer are the days of hiding eggs and bribing the kids to wear the cute outfits I bought for them. As a matter of fact, I hardly flinched when Cole came upstairs this morning wearing a maroon winter sweater and shorts for church. There was no reason for us to fight over clothing this year.

Messy bun. My go-to hairstyle for Al.

As always, church was good. But afterwards, the boys kept asking me what was wrong. I was uncharacteristically quiet. I said I was tired. Had a headache. Had an ear ache. I wasn't lying. But I wasn't completely telling the truth either. I was being a baby. I wanted our entire family to be together. And I wanted the kids to be little again.

In other words, I was glum for no good reason. How could I be glum when my son is actually thinking about his future and my daughter couldn't make it home because she needed to cover shifts and focus on the last of her college projects? This is why you raise kids, right?

So dapper in a springlike tie.

The boys and I ended up trekking to The Cheesecake Factory and Barnes and Nobles. Doug and Cole have a way of making me laugh even when I don't want to. (Farts, mainly.) We also ended up taking a detour and saw flood damaged areas which punched me in the gut and made me realize I TRULY have nothing to be glum about. Once we got home, we checked cows and saw four adorable calves nuzzling each other. Then we watched HGTV and dreamt about future vacation homes that hopefully would involve a truckload of grandkids.

As I was writing this post I received a call from... wait for it... Alex Kramer! My glum was dissolving anyway, but hearing her enthusiastic voice that's really too busy to chat filled the little hole that had been needling my heart.

Hallelujah! I say now. Winter is over. Flowers are poking through the ground. The kids are dipping their toes into fresh waters. What better day than Easter to encourage these kids to live their lives with hope and love? As Matthew says in his gospel:

"Let your life shine before others." - Matthew 5:16.

Alex and Cole: Let your life shine. Don't let your mother hold you back.

Resurrection

When I was seven-years-old, my parents sat me down the night before Easter to inform me there was no such thing as an Easter Bunny. I cried. I distinctly remember my sadness not stemming from the non-existence of the mythical hare. I was sad because I knew my dad was really just telling me I wasn't getting a gift basket the following Sunday. (They had forgotten to pick something up.) Through my blubbering, I managed to ask about the authenticity of Santa. Dad assured me that Santa would arrive next Christmas. Relief.

Easter should be esteemed as the most holy, reverent holidays for all Christians everywhere. It is, after all, what defines us as Christian. I can honestly confess (this is a confession), I haven't always embraced the spirit of the holiday for what it is–as you can guess from the story of my 7-year-old self.

As I grew older and presumably wiser, I looked forward to Easter for different reasons: to dress up my kids, decorate hard-boiled eggs, and pose as the Easter Bunny to warrant ridiculous portions of chocolate and jelly beans in the house. All of that was pretty fun. Yet, I skimmed over the true reason for the celebration.

Now I am forced to give up dressing up my kids for the holiday. I still buy them clothes, but my opinions are effectively moot. Alex would never talk to me again if I made her wear a flowery dress with a pink floppy hat. And if I attempted another sweater vest on Cole, he'd likely run away. Thus, they wear something cool and trendy that can and must be worn with dirty Converses or ratty Nikes.

Last week, I was nostalgic about the days of the egg hunts during our big family celebrations. Then it occurred to me! Those hunts were a pain in the ass. We mothers not only had to hide hundreds of eggs, but we had to find the well-hidden ones as well...and make sure all the kids got equal amounts. Neither of those two things ever happened.

So this Saturday, as we hosted family, I tried to determine how to resurrect the Easter of times past.  Then it occurred to me. Why? The youngest of the clan is now fourteen. The kids can dress themselves (most of the time) and they are quite adept at entertaining themselves.

Easter is resurrection, without the need of all the commercial antics and hoo-rah. No matter what traditions we do or not do, it's a time for all of us to be immensely happy. Because we are loved no matter what, through all of our sins and failings.

If you believe Jesus died for our sins, it really is the most wonderful time to meditate on what that really means to you. And perhaps some of you, like me, will conclude the best way to honor God for this gift is to follow His lead and show your love to others no matter what–and not necessarily with chocolate bunnies.

Look at those threads. More importantly, look at those smiles. #Loved.