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| Easter happy hour on the patio |
If you
can get past to comparisons to “how it should be,” this was really a glorious
Easter, at least here in North Texas. Rolling thunder woke me sometime in the
early morning, and I got up to release Sophie from her crate because I knew she
be frightened and want to be close to me. But by the time I got up for good, it
was a glorious sunny day, the kind of day you think Easter should be.
My
strongest memory of Easter in the Chicago of my childhood has to do with heavy
winter coats. I would get a fancy Easter dress, often organdy or some sheer
fabric, with petticoats beneath—and then the weather would force me to top it
with my drab, old winter coat. No such problems here.
Another
of my earliest memories is the anthem we learned in choir: One Early Easter
Morning. This morning, when I turned on my computer, the first thing I saw was
an email from my lifelong dear friend Barbara. Nothing except the first lines
of that anthem. Brought happy tears of memory to my eyes.
Jordan,
Jacob, and I “went” to eleven o’clock church online, while Christian attended
inside the house. The music was glorious—brass, timpani, wind—and a vocal
quartet that were superb. The message, inspiring and nicely linking the
resurrection to the difficult period we now find ourselves in. I am so grateful
to my church as the staff continues to explore ways to keep us together and
create meaningful worship in the midst of physical distancing.
Jordan
dressed for church. Unfortunately, neither Jacob nor I did. And I didn’t
realize that we were all having brunch together. Just as I finished my tuna and
cottage cheese, there they came, bearing bacon and eggs and potatoes. We had a
grand time, mostly talking with Jacob about colleges because he’s suddenly
decided, after years of devotion, he may not want to go to Baylor.
A nap
for me, while the Burtons went to do a birthday drive-by for a good friend. I
am amused that these have become common across the nation. The first I heard
of—for the 14th birthday of a friend’s daughter—seemed original to
me, but I soon learned it is a “thing.” Just as I woke from my nap, thunder was
rumbling again but it did little more than make Sophie nervous.
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Our Easter table
with Jordan's cake
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| Easter dinner |
After
that the focus was on dinner which, as always, was late. I made scalloped
potatoes—I have always had trouble getting them right, but I nailed it this
time. I used to try for Colin, because he loved them, but they were always
mushy. Christian cooked a brisket, following directions I remembered from my
Jewish mother-in-law—it was delicious, though he wasn’t happy with the gravy.
Jordan made deviled eggs, cucumber salad, and a cake. And set an elegant table
on my coffee table. It was al delicious, and we lingered over Jordan’s cake—a memory
from her childhood: yellow cake with chocolate frosting.
So
different from other Easter tables with lots of family and friends, but we are
together and healthy and beyond grateful. I come away from this holiest of days
with the sure knowledge that we will get through this.
Tonight,
the wind is blowing, and the temperature has dropped dramatically. I’ve heard
predictions as low as the thirties in the night. Crazy weather.
