My Family Had Easter Without Me

My family had Easter without me. I thought my first post here would be something witty and cute. Something to set the tone for this space and stir up some creative energy and foreshadowing. But I created this site to house my unfiltered conscious and tonight it's thinking about Easter. About growing up and growing out. To be fair my family has had every Easter without me since I moved away for college. I've never really given the holiday a second thought, it's too small to fly home for and the bunny mastermind that orchestrated my childhood egg hunts has been retired for years. I wasn't even sure what day Easter was on this year until it showed up on Sunday morning. I did my normal Sunday activities - coffee, breakfast, pottery class, and a special extra activity to celebrate the holiday - a trip to my favorite thrift store. It was a good day, I bought a lamp. I finally got back to my apartment in time to do the honorary holiday phone call to my parents and that's when I realized - I am the only child missing Easter this year. One of four not having chocolate covered strawberries and mimosas for brunch, not faking shared excitement with my dad over the holiday ham. My sister told me they went to the park that used to host the infamous egg hunts, they played on the rocks for old times sake. The park next to the condo we just moved my grandma out of. She told me about nana stumbling over roots in her walker, about new jokes over new misfortunes. Every once in a while I think about the hidden cost of chasing dreams. Moving so far into the life you wanted that the one that shaped you seems lightyears away. Time is almost as ruthless as missed memories. Remembering to be the girl that hunted for colored eggs and Easter baskets. Leaving space for the mourning of lost moments.