When I think of Easter I think of this pic. I always liked Easter. Even though it was always a little sad because every year I would wonder and wish and hope about the next year… that there would be a little girl in a pretty dress or a little boy in a seersucker suit running around the yard searching for eggs. It's still a hard pill to swallow that that will never happen. Maybe that's why I have Easter Egg hunts for my dog - see post from a couple days ago. ;-)
When I think of Easter I always think of the front yard - here. If I close my eyes I can see myself in a poufy dress standing by the little tree that used to be there. We would always put those plastic eggs on the bushes outside. I remember fishing wire and hanging the eggs off the branches. I remember getting a dixie cup and picking the berries off the bushes because I didn't want the birds to get sick if they ate them.
When I think of Easter I remember scavenger hunts for my Easter basket. Little clues all around that always led me to the same spot: my parents closet in the bedroom. I would open the door and my basket would be there. Every year.
The pup's Easter baskets have been shoved in the back of storage and I don't know where some of my decorations are. I hate that. I hate the feeling of things being scattered about. I hate that I didn't even go up to see Aunt Gloria on Easter because she doesn't even know that it is Easter. I hate that I just looked through the Chasing Fireflies catalog and saw cute little easter pajamas.
Here's a picture of Easter past. I think I was 2. I wonder if this was the start of my love of creepy easter bunnies. I don't seem to be bothered by this guy. I think this was one of the first documented pics of my beloved teddy bear, Paul.
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