Dress-up

This Easter, I'm reminded of the importance of family.

Because of all the stuff with my Aunt, my Mom and Grandma have been down in Florida taking care of all the business and won't be back in time for Easter.

Usually parts of the Donaldson clan trek over to Lincoln for Easter mass and brunch somewhere. We're only there for part of the day, but it's an exceptionally good day. The new (great) Grandchildren would be running around after eggs, wearing frilly white socks with their shoes, giggling when the "Easter Bunny" stops by our table.

When I was a child, an especially magical part of this time involved pretty new Easter dresses. Sometime the week before, I'd go to the mall with Mom and search for something lovely, but somewhat warm (it was a little too early for sundresses in March). I spent many an Easter shivering, or (gasp) taking in the "dreaded white sweater."

Blech. I hated when she made me do that.

During my first year down in Kansas City, it was odd think that the new dress tradition might end. I was really broke, so Mom came to the rescue, letting me get a new yellow dress that I wore to my first Easter as an "independent, workin' woman."

It felt good to be between two worlds - still taken care of, at the same time making my own way in my own city.

I'll remember that feeling this Sunday.

I'll go to my first Easter service at my own church. In my own world. Surrounded by my own people. But I'll be wearing that yellow dress. And I'll be missing you, Mom.