Other memories are not so pleasant. One such moment occurred with Ben and Easter when he was in first grade. Religion, like so many other topics, was one more landmine in the household. As a result, the boys grew up with no religion or discussions of faith and spirituality. Easter, even in its most commercial and non-religious form, somehow also ended up on the non-observed list.
Just days ago I posted a sonnet about how life is only a one-take proposition. All the same, what parent out there hasn’t replayed events from their children’s childhood and winced? The moment captured below, in contrast to the day of the giant Bunny, is one that eighteen years later I still wish I could take back and make right. (And for those who wonder when they get to the end, yes, Sam got one too.)
Your 1st grade classmates were talking
About chocolate bunnies
And hunting for colored eggs.
Peter Cottontail was hopping into every one of their homes.
You came home, all of seven, and asked
If we celebrated Easter.
“No,” said your dad, “we don’t believe in Easter.”
You hung your head to hide
But I heard you whisper,
“I believe in Easter.”
You never mentioned Easter again.
You never asked to dye an egg.
You never asked for a chocolate bunny.
When Peeps came home from the grocery,
You ate them without comment.
Easter was never on your calendar.
Over the years, I would hear your small
“I believe in Easter”
And yearn to give it back to you.
This year, I packed a box
With chocolate eggs and a surprise or two
And shipped them out to you,
A long overdue visit from the Easter Bunny.