I was a little sad to realize I hadn’t even sent my girls Easter chocolates. Being unemployed has cut the budget to bare bones. Then I thought back on past Easters.
I always hark back in time to the house in Lunenburg, when the girls were probably 10 and 13 years old. I would buy baskets, fill the bottom with jelly beans and the top with lip gloss, hand cream, toothbrushes – basically all the same stuff that their Christmas stockings held which would have all been used up or lost by Easter.
I decorated with duck eggs we had painstakingly pierced and blown out years ago. They were “interestingly” decorated, including one egg sporting the Periodic Table of Elements symbol for poop by Jeff. There were intricately painted Russian eggs bought from a street vendor in Harvard Square and a huge spun sugar egg with a diorama inside.
I loved one ritual I brought to my kids’ holiday which came from my own childhood. We weren’t a big “candy” family so the highlight was the one pound chocolate covered egg with the cream filling and yoke. It was ritualistically sliced at Easter dinner and if you were lucky there was some left for the tomorrow’s dessert as well.