A New Kind of Easter

A New Kind of Easter

Easter is almost here! It is with mixed emotions that I prepare my family for this most special holiday. Easter is different this year for many reasons, and I must admit that I am longing for what it was in years past. We are not in Kentucky, where we have spent Easter for the last 10 years. We are not surrounded by family and old friends, dyeing and hunting for eggs, attending the church where we were married.

We are in a new place. If I crane my neck, I can see patches of grass outside and tiny buds on the trees. The green seems small in comparison to the concrete and brick apartment buildings surrounding them.

It sure doesn’t feel or look like Easter. This is not what I had in mind. It is in this attitude that I ponder Easter this year.

And there’s another change this Easter.

Nearly all my memories of Easter are intertwined with one person- my grandmother. Every year of my childhood, she bought an Easter outfit for me and my sisters. She bought the complete outfit- dress, hat, shawl, slip and tights. I hated then (and now) slips, but I knew Grandma would fuss if I went without. So every Easter morning, I dressed myself in my beautiful new clothes and went to church with my family.

After church, we went to Grandma’s house for a big lunch. Before we were allowed to eat or change into play clothes, we had to stand on her front steps and have our picture taken. It sounds so simple, but it felt like torture to us then. Many a conflict began with the words, “Let’s go take your picture…” But now, those pictures on her front porch are treasured mementos, a little timeline of the change of our family over the years. I love them.

Eventually, Grandma could not keep up with my teenage fashions. She took to giving me money so I could pick out my own Easter dress. Still, it felt like a gift from her. I continued to pose dutifully for my picture on the front steps.

When my children were born, she quit buying me clothes. All her shopping energies became focused once again on the children’s department. Every spring, she purchased a beautiful dress for my daughter and matching shirts for my sons. We lived in different states then, so my kids didn’t pose on the historic front porch. Instead, I took their pictures and mailed them to her.

Grandma won’t be buying their clothes this year. She’s not here anymore. She died tragically along with my grandfather in a car accident last fall. I don’t know how to do Easter without her, but I want to figure it out.

I have a few precious thoughts that I replay over and over in my mind as I think on these things.

One, the Lord gave me a wonderful visit with her just weeks before her death. Without really knowing why, I decided to take a spur of the moment trip to Knoxville. If you know me, doing anything spur of the moment is pretty out of character. So packing up a five year-old, three year-old, two year-old and four month-old for a 9 hour trip driving alone is not my norm. But I did it. I stayed for a week, and had a wonderful visit with my grandparents and the rest of the family. What I didn’t know then was that it was to be our last moments together.

Two, my mother passed on to me a phone conversation she had had with Grandma just days before her death. Dementia was creeping its way into my Grandmother’s seventy-nine year old mind. At times she was lucid and spunky as ever. But then there were moments of anxiety, fear and confusion. During one of her very clear and crisp moments, she proclaimed, “I’m ready to die. I’m not scared. I know that I will be with Jesus. “ I thank God for that declaration that brings me such comfort about where my Grandmother is spending Easter this year and every Easter to come.

So this year begins for me a different chapter for Easter celebrations. My first response was to gloss over Easter quickly, to leave the Easter decorations and books in the top of the closet and just get through the day. It feels too painful to look these things in the eye.

Or, I can celebrate Easter through these circumstances, in a deeper way, just as it really is and was alwaysmeant to be.

It was this deep darkness and sadness brought on by sin for which Jesus came. All of mankind and the earth itself was under the curse and penalty of sin and death. We are helpless, stuck. But Jesus came, giving His perfect life as a ransom for many, that we might be forgiven. It is at Easter that we see so clearly that the grave is not the end.

So tomorrow, I will celebrate Easter with my family. We’ll all get dressed up in new clothes and head to church. But when we get there, we won’t be thinking about our outfits anymore. I’ll be thinking about Grandma, seeing Easter in a new way this year. And I’ll be holding on to these words.

Death has been swallowed up in victory.
Where, O death, is your victory?
Where, O death is your sting?
The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law.
But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.
1 Corinthians 15:54-57

I will cry tomorrow, I’m sure, but I’m going to laugh, too. I have hope because of Jesus. Truly the sting of death for Grandma Jerry and for all those who love the Lord Jesus is gone! Thank you, Jesus.

Written in loving memory of Geraldine McCall 1930-2010

My Blizzard Checklist

A blizzard is on its way. This is the view outside my living room window.

It’s the first time in my life that I can remember the word blizzard in a weather forecast that pertained to me. I'm not sure how to handle a blizzard, but here’s my novice blizzard checklist.

One, stock the refrigerator with extra food for the next few days. We must not run out of milk, coffee or creamer.

Two, put in a request to our landlord to up the thermostat in the building. Our one hundred year-old building is heated with radiators. I have mixed feelings about these radiators. I dislike them because they take up precious corner space in our already small apartment. I dislike them because their edges are sharp and unforgiving to little foreheads that run into them. I dislike them when I’m cold or hot and have no way to adjust their temperatures. But, I love them when they make my bath towel toasty for after my showers. I really love the radiators when I pay my bills, because water and therefore the steam heat, are included in my rent.

Now that we’re sufficiently warm, fed and caffeinated, I can move to the next tier of to-do’s.

Three, prepare to entertain four little kids and myself, so that our happy home remains a happy home for the duration of our confinement. I’m trying to be proactive, heading off boredom and pent up energy before it combusts into something much worse.

So here’s the list of out of the ordinary things that I came up with to occupy little minds and hands.

1. Play dough. That isn’t very creative, but it’s a rarity around here. I hate play dough. It inevitably creates messes that require vacuuming afterwards. Not to mention the fact that the kids are terrible about keeping the colors separated. All 8 containers consist of the same color- a marbley mixture of all the colors put together. I will set aside all my dislike for Play Dough and let them at it.
2. Make a city out of the Little People. Put the farm animals, house airport together into a thriving metropolis.
3. Write and mail letters.
4. Listen to books on CD.
5. “Clean” their toys by taking a bath with them.
6. Make homemade applesauce together.
7. Play board games.
8. Repeat if necessary.

We’ve already done the Little People metropolis. Here’s what it looked like.

Lane and Logan had a lot of fun. Eli found that gnawing on the Little People was quite soothing for his gums. Emma Jane was still recovering from being sick, so she just slept on the couch.

I'll let you know how the rest of my list works out. I'm up for suggestions for other fun indoor activities.

Toddler-Proof?

So I purchased some special markers for toddlers. Surely, I thought, these markers will be great for my two year-old, Lane.

They are triangular, not round, so they won’t roll off the table.

Washable ink, so no stains.

No lids to lose, just press firmly on the tips and the markers write.

Perfect!

But as I learned today, even the best thought-out plan for little ones requires one most essential design element…

Adult supervision

I left Lane briefly to color alone while I prepared lunch. After 5 minutes of eerie quiet, this is what I discovered.

Yes, the boy has pants, but we’re also in the midst of potty-training.

The good news is that later in the day, Lane was sneaky once again. He found some wipes and cleaned off his multi-colored thighs.

Ah, life with a two-year old. You’d think after doing this two times already, I wouldn’t be surprised. Yet there seems to be no limit to the ingenuity of a two-year old mind.

So I might as well laugh and enjoy. And put all permanent markers under lock and key.