Easter is on Sunday. Don’t feel bad, it snuck up on me, too. I’ve been so focused on work/crisis homeschooling/new not-quite-normal that I forgot it was even happening until a few days ago.
Since we don’t have family close by, I always work to make the holidays special. Big meals, lots of decorations, fanfare. My first instinct was to go even bigger this year. My poor kids are trapped at home, they can’t see their friends or go to school. This needs to be the BEST EASTER EVER! And then I remembered: We are stuck at home. We can’t see our friends or family. It doesn’t have to be the best anything.
We will celebrate, but with a murmur instead of a shout. We’ll be together. (For the eleventeenth day in a row, but who’s counting?) There will still be candy, eggs, church and food, but it will all be lower key. I will be lower key. We will stay in our pj’s and watch church online. We’ll support local business by ordering in dinner.
In some ways, I’m torn between wanting to celebrate and wanting to mourn what is going on around the world. I’m starting to feel that way about every day, and perhaps the struggle between maintaining normalcy and worrying about what is happening beyond my home is my new normal.
This year’s celebration will be less grand, but more meaningful. The group will be smaller, the table will be simpler, and I won’t make my usual run to Target for all the last-minute treats, but that is what makes it special. We are making more of less these days, being thankful for what we have, and finding our footing together.
