Easter Monday

Have you ever had a day that you dread? Easter Monday is that day for me. Somehow, as a growing child I would have mishaps on that day.

I can remember my parents saying they were going to tie me in my bed so that no harm could come to me. Of course, they were joking.

Two incidents come to mind quickly when I see Easter Monday approaching. The first required an emergency room visit. My sisters and I were off school, watching mid-morning television, eating our Easter basket goodies and drinking pop (soda, coke, sody-pop, soft drink I have heard them all). Our mother was on the phone talking with a friend. My older sister asked me to go get her more to drink. I said no. She knew I would do it anyway, so she tossed her glass at me. Neither of us thought anything would happen. But, somehow the glass hit just the right way on my knee and exploded, sending chards into my knee. We both panicked and we didn’t want Mom to know what had happened. We slid by her, and went to the bathroom, I am certain she noticed that blood was running down my leg, but we were determined. As my sister was attempting to place band-aids over my knee, our Mother appeared in the bathroom door. I then went to the emergency room where our family physician removed the glass and commented that they were very pretty. They were blue and white glasses. I am certain we were corrected, but we were just being kids.

A few years went by. It was evening on Easter Monday. My sisters and I were outside, shoe-less of course. Again, my older sister asked me to go get her shoes, so she could investigate something. I obliged and ran down our sidewalk in the back of our house. I don’t know how, but, somehow I tripped, slid across the cemented back porch and the aluminum screen door stopped me, but not before I dented in the bottom part of the door with my head. No emergency room visit that time, but no school the next day either.

I occasionally hear about my adventures on Easter Monday, but it is few and far between. In jest I was referred to as Grace. All legs and feet and no coordination.

I smile as I write these memories. I can still recall the glass being removed and the doctor and my Mom laughing at our antics. I can still remember being stopped by screen door and hearing my Dad say, she dented my door.

These are the things that make parents go grey. They are also the stuff of great memories.

“And do everything with love.” 1 Corinthians 16:14 (NLT)

Did we sisters do everything in love? No, of course not. We are a real family. But, we are fiercely devoted to one another, we have each other’s back. The Lord created our family. It was not always easy for us, but, we survived and flourished. Today I would not run to get her shoes, but I would most likely trip at some point. Grace still exists, but now I pass it off to old age.