To each of us, today means something different. It may be a day to rest, grieve, bake, call family, or simply business as usual. Whatever your day holds, thank you for sharing this piece of it with me.
I woke up at 3 a.m. from a restless dream of trying to remember where I’d stored my childhood Easter decorations. Specifically, my dream-self was rummaging for a small, rotating German music box with carved wooden bunnies and slots to hold eggs. I loved that thing. It’s at my parent’s house. I promptly fell down the rabbit hole remembering Easters of my earliest childhood, when my mom still had energy to clean the house and decorate a month in advance, drape the house in black lace for Good Friday, and collect onion skins and beets to dye hard-boiled eggs pink and gold.
Today will be different from those early Easters for quite a few reasons, but I’m glad I found the memories nestled in my morning. Now I’m off to call my parents and thank them for putting up with me all those years ago. Whatever your day holds, and whatever meaning it holds for you – I hope you find a beautiful memory to savor sometime today.
On Good Friday, I came down
To a flowering tree wrapped around
In black lace. My mother’s gift of understanding:
A story is not always what it seems.
Saturday the kitchen hummed
Steam and simmer, work to be done –
“Stay out of trouble!” – that night,
Through hard bench and incense,
I napped through vigil towards morning.
Sunday bright, pink and gold
Beet, onion skin stain bright and bold
Eggs in a basket. Through quake and gardener,
Eggshells hold. These colors’ gift of mystery:
A story is not always what it seems.
Skeleton At The Feast 