I didn’t get to spend Easter with my family, and it was more emotional than I ever thought it would be.
Every holiday I find myself dreading going to family events. They’re crowded and being the only single, childless person there puts me in this ‘odd man out’ place that somehow feels worse Because I’m around family. It’s stressful, too. Old stories that are embarrassing get told, and retold and retold. Like, the time I was nine and rolled the minivan downhill into the neighbors living room. Or how I had crushes on all of my brothers friends and used to do weird things like sing to them or try to impress them with my piano prowess. I was a weird kid, is all I’m saying.
But this year I wasn’t able to be at my family’s Easter dinner. I know my dad brined chicken and cooked it on the grill. He loves his grill. And Granny sent her slow cooker ham and jello (she couldn’t be there because she’s on her way to Winstar…when Granny’s gotta gamble, Granny’s gotta gamble). My mom probably made her pretty spring cupcakes that have marshmallows and colored sugar on top and look like flowers.
And I know that at least ten of my seventeen nieces and nephews were there. Sierra’s fifteen and way too pretty for my comfort, but she still lets me hold her on my lap and cuddle that sweet neck. Elijah would have asked to play Plants Vs Zombies on my phone a billion times and I’d have told him no because he always uses all my gold.
It was a pretty day today, so we’d have sat on my parents back deck and watched the kids run around and get bigger in front of us.
I always dread it but it’s my messy, weird family and I always love it, too.
This year I had Salisbury steak and peas and rice for dinner. And it’s quiet. And I never knew how sad I’d feel about not getting to be there until I didn’t get to go.
Have you ever had s similar experience? Tell us about it in the comments below! I’d love to hear from you.