I’m a fan of the more low-key holidays, where a good meal peppered with conversation and laughter for a few hours sometimes beats the hype and expectations that always seem to plague Thanksgiving and Christmas.
My folks came over for dinner yesterday and brought with them what I expected they would – Easter basket treats for my kids.
Never mind that said kids are actually 23 and 18. It’s a tradition that started when I was young, my mother filling up baskets with goodies for me and my brother. When I had children of my own, she and my dad made sure the rite was passed on.
I don’t remember all of the things I received in the Easter baskets from my childhood (other than a single Reece’s Peanut Butter Egg and some cavity-inducing yellow Peeps). But I do recall the comfort I felt when searching for my hidden basket, knowing I’d find chocolate bunnies, stuffed animals, and other items nestled inside the pastel colored grass picked out especially by my mom.
Nowadays, I enjoy showering my kids in the same way. I love strolling the aisles of local stores for items with which to fill their baskets, like comfy pants for my daughter, fishing lures for my son, and gift cards to their favorite fast food and coffee shops.
The best part is that I enjoy thinking of my mom and this cute tradition I get the privilege of keeping alive.
And, if I’m truly lucky, it will come full circle when I have grandchildren of my own.
49 and Counting 