Ghost of Easter's Past

Last Sunday was Easter and it was different. I have a feeling it's only a sign of things to come. A sign that the kids are getting bigger. Older. We no longer have the neighborhood Easter Egg Hunt that was held in the park, literally just a half block down the street. It was always a great way to get in the Easter mood. Grandma does an egg hunt at her house, but it's Easter morning, so while it's fun, it's no help in getting in the spirit.


Outside of the Egg Hunt, we did our Easter Egg Coloring. In the past this activity has been met with eagerness and excitment. Several days of "when are we coloring the eggs," were always met with "Soon." This year, there was the odd question, but not the badgering of years past. When we finally boiled eggs and brought out the colors, the kids were quiet. Gone this year was the chatter and banter of who would get the darkest color out of their egg, the most stickers, the clearest writing. Even the eggs themselves were missing the decorations they usually heapedon them. Oh, they still left their eggs in cups trying to get a really dark color, but there was something missing in it.


Easter Morning we were up at the crack BEFORE dawn so that we made it to 7:00 am Mass. In the past we went to a later Mass. There were no new Easter outfits for Kallene and I (not that I always got a new outfit, but Kallene did) and no new dress shirts for the boys. This is where some much needed Spring color is found -- in the new clothes.


We came home, after breakfast out, to hunt for eggs and baskets. While I know there were attempts at finding things before we left for church, there was no unrestrained, gotta-find-it attitudes. There was excitment, sort of. Some baskets were harder to find that others, as always. One or two eggs went unfound, as always. Even the baskets looked leaner this year. There were still the jelly beans, bubble gum eggs and chocolate bunnies, along with a non-edible goodie. Gone though were the baskets filled to overflowing because the non-edible items were little kid big. How is it that the older the kids get, the smaller their toys get? I didn't even get a lot of pictures -- the big kids hunted while I snapped some shots of Matthew with his basket. By the time I thought to tell them to wait, they were done.


I know that Easter shouldn't be about Mr. Bunny and the Eggs, but I can't help but feel that something has passed on in this regard. Maybe it's just me, I hope so, but I also know that it's the beginning of the end of the little-child excitment for holidays and the traditions that go with them.


Luckily we have Matthew and in a couple years we'll revisit all the excitment and childhood glee. All the innocence and magic will return to the house when he's old enough to "get it."


I never realized how much I was renewed during Easter by seeing it through my childrens' eyes. Now to figure out how to bring that back to them as they continue to get older, and hold on to it myself.