I am grieving the loss of traditions, instead of grieving my mother (or in addition to).
I don't get an Easter Basket with bad candy and the cutest stuffed bunny around this year...there's no one to make it.
I don't get to hunt for eggs anymore (yes, at 29 I hunted for easter eggs...mom got creative last year, she made me look for them in the middle of the night without a flashlight)...there's no one to hide them...nor is there anyone to forget where they are until August.
I have to colour and decorate four dozen eggs alone...there's no one to laugh with or tease about dyed fingers.
The Easter Bunny may be a myth...but there's no one here to help me keep him alive.
I don't get an Easter Basket with bad candy and the cutest stuffed bunny around this year...there's no one to make it.
I don't get to hunt for eggs anymore (yes, at 29 I hunted for easter eggs...mom got creative last year, she made me look for them in the middle of the night without a flashlight)...there's no one to hide them...nor is there anyone to forget where they are until August.
I have to colour and decorate four dozen eggs alone...there's no one to laugh with or tease about dyed fingers.
The Easter Bunny may be a myth...but there's no one here to help me keep him alive.