It’s Monday before Easter and I am thinking of my grandchildren who are hours away from me. Many years in the past, I’ve sent them special Easter baskets in the mail. I made the packages the same as I did when my own children were little, filled plastic eggs with jelly beans and foil wrapped chocolate eggs , hid coins or dollar bills for surprises and then always tucked a large chocolate Peter Rabbit for each child into the green plastic grass. That faux grass stuck to everything it touched, like stryofoam peanuts and was impossible to get rid of, just like dropped Christmas tree needles still appearing in July.

Years ago in more creative seasons, I blew out raw eggs and painted them, one for each of my three children. The collection grew over the years. I discovered pysanski eggs and added several beautiful ones during a trip to the Czech Republic.    Unfortunately, most of the original eggs are now broken, but I still have a Big Bird for Chris when he was three, Laura’s Pink Rabbit egg and a few of Lisa’s . The memories are precious.

I don’t mail packages any more. The cost of mailing “Oma” Easter baskets has become prohibitive and I can’t seem to justify spending more for postage than for the Easter treats. It’s another sign of how things have changed.  Now, I can  have Amazon direct  send   an Easter basket  my little ones, but it’s not the same. How could any .com possibly replicate Pez pop up candy dispensers, the bottles of soap bubbles with their slippery wands or brand new Crayola boxes? Ordering a Paas egg coloring kit is not the same as choosing a pink sparkly dye kit for my six year old princess – and it is far removed from that special, special mess we create together, dipping eggs into Easter colors.

My thoughts are not particularly deep or spiritual today. There is time enough for that as the Passion of Christ approaches in this liturgically heavy week. On Holy Thursday I’ll remember Jesus washing the feet of his disciples and His celebrating the Passover with them. On Good Friday I will fast and pray. And then on Easter Sunday, I’ll rejoice in the Lord’s Resurrection with all of my fellow Christians.

But right now, on Monday before Easter I am thankful for Easter memories, for my children and grandchildren and the simple heart felt joy God gives me  for my family.

Friede Gabbert