Nothing More's Gonna Get In My Way

Easter is my favorite holiday, it always has been. Most people like Christmas or Thanksgiving, maybe even Halloween because they get to dress up, but I like Easter.

The reason I love Easter is because of all the wonderful memories I have of Easter when I was a child. It all starts with dying Easter eggs the night before. As a kid (and even as an adult at home) we’d all gather around the kitchen table and dye eggs with food coloring. We’d nag my dad to come to the table and partake until he’d eventually come and plop an egg in each color only to then walk away saying that’s all he was going to do, leaving all the colors unusable due to his eggs hogging the cups. Laughing, there was always laughing while dying eggs.

In the morning I’d awake to a jelly bean trail starting at my bedroom door that would lead me to the living room where the hunt for eggs and my basket was on. After finding eggs hidden in plants, under the piano peddles and under the couch, it was time to eat my mother’s Eggs Benedict and Cherry-Go-Round sweet bread for breakfast. When I was really little we’d go the church for a pancake and ham breakfast put on by the youth group. The thing I remember most about the meal is that it was one of the few times the church used their church china and silver tea set, and I remember that being very special. After breakfast, it was time for church. I always remember wearing a brand new dress that my mother had made for me and I’d usually have a new stuffed rabbit that was tucked inside my Easter basket.

After church we’d go to the Cusack’s Easter Egg Hunt where they lived at the New England Fish Company. They had a sprawling grass yard where they hid real eggs and plastic eggs. The kids would run around looking for the “big money” egg while the parents stayed indoors and ate, chatted and drank Penny Cusack’s orange blossom drinks. Fun was always had by all. (An orange blossom is vodka mixed with orange sherbet—oh yum!)

We’d then come home and mom would start making dinner and thus would commence the “egg bumping” competition. Egg bumping is a family tradition brought from my mother’s side of the family that no one has heard of except my family and people think we’re crazy for it. When I took a Russian Christianity History class in college I read that egg bumping was a Slavic Pagan tradition, which makes sense because my mom’s family all hails from Poland/Ukraine. When it comes time to crack the eggs to make deviled eggs or other edibles, we each take one of the eggs we painted and partner up and bump eggs. The one whose egg doesn’t crack is declared the winner. Usually there is one egg that has miraculously survived being cracked up against everyone else’s eggs with great force. One year we couldn’t understand how Perry’s egg could survive everything (even when it was beat up against the counter) until we learned Perry put glue on one end for reinforcement. You gotta watch my brother.

I admit to being kind of a nut when it comes to Easter. I decorate the house, force my family to dye Easter eggs, I make Eggs Benedict and Cherry-Go-Round for breakfast, I hide everyone’s Easter baskets and the eggs, I make a huge and complex Easter dinner and I love every minute of it. However, not much of this will happen this Easter because as I write this, chemo is being pumped into me. I won’t have the energy to do much of anything on Easter let alone even remember it. However, I am going to try. Tonight before I get too loopy, I hope to dye eggs with Lena. Earlier this week I bought everything for Easter baskets and they are all separated in bags so all I have to do is dump them into the baskets and hide them. I am going to set my alarm for 5 AM Sunday morning and hope to hide the baskets and eggs before Lena wakes up at the crack of dawn. I’m going to have to let a few things slide like the Eggs Benedict and cooking an elaborate meal. Maybe I’ll feel like bumping a few eggs, maybe not. I’ll try to make it to church, but I’m not promising anything. Addison told me the last Sunday I was recovering from chemo I didn’t come out of the bedroom all day. The funny thing is, I don’t even remember. Oh, and to top things off, it’s Lena’s birthday on Sunday. We’ve already celebrated with parties, but it still bums me out that on her actual birthday, I’ll be under the influence of chemicals and drugs. The good thing is Lena is forgiving and understanding. I am so lucky in that way.

Many people wonder why I’d even bother waking up at 5 am to hide eggs when Lena wouldn’t even notice if I didn’t. I do it so that I can keep some normalcy, it makes me feel good. I recognize I need to slow down, but at the same time I still want to live my life. I don’t want to be treated like I'm fragile; I don’t want to have people do everything for me. I want to cook meals when I can because I enjoy it. I want to drive Lena to school and wake up in the middle of the night to feed Aurelia. I want to continue working. I want to host parties. I want to go dancing! I want to wake up at 5 am to hide Easter eggs for my three year old so I can hear her giggle as she totes her baskets around discovering eggs that the Easter Bunny hid for her. I know my limitations and ask for help when I need it, and I appreciate the help I receive. But, I still need to find enjoyment in the doing of things. It’s in my nature and I can’t help it. This is why I’ll get up at 5 am, put on bunny ears, and hide eggs with a giant smile on my face. Then I’ll go back to bed until Lena wakes me up.