I have many memories of celebrating Easter with my family while growing up. I remember the Easter dress that my mom made me when I was in elementary school that matched hers, complete with a matching bonnet and a purse. I remember hunting for Easter eggs and jelly beans (leaving the black ones for someone else to find) before going to church. I remember the little yellow sundress that was in my Easter basket that I just HAD to wear to church that day. I remember the Easter that I went to church covered in scabs after falling off a skateboard (and the fit my mother had when I walked into the house after falling off the skateboard the day before Easter). I remember eating so much chocolate from my Easter basket that I swore off eating chocolate forever (which really only lasted until the sugar crash was over). I remember singing the Hallelujah Chorus with the choir at church in high school and college- especially the goosebumps I got each and every time I sang it surrounded by people who make it sound so incredibly beautiful and personal. And I now remember an Easter filled with grief and tears.
I had an unexpected reality check on Easter morning- we won't have Courtney hand us a homemade cards (complete with misspelled words and hand drawn flowers). We won't see our daughter sing praise hymns in church (complete with adorable hand gestures). We won't see her hunt for Easter eggs...or watch her eat a chocolate bunny.
How did I cope with my reality check? I cried, literally cried, all the way through church. Then I cried in the car on the way home. I cried at home that afternoon and evening... yep, I even cried some the next day.
What helped me get through it? A woman in our congregation who FULLY understands and who was struggling that day too. She came over with a box of tissues and a big hug. An understanding priest who gave me a great big bear hug on our way out of church, knowing that sometimes the best thing to say is nothing at all. The world's BEST husband let me cry on his shoulder...yet again. He let me be a complete mess all day. And, yet again, I heard my dad tell me that he's praying for us. And most of all, I allowed myself to feel the emotions and then I gave them over to God- the anger, the pain, the hurt, the questions, and the grief.
The time between the parting of a loved one from earth and our entry into heaven still hurts... sometimes the pain sneaks up on you and it hits when you least expect it to, even on days that are supposed to be so joyful. While the sorrow exists in the parting on earth, thankfully Easter gives us the promise of joy and the promise of heaven. I am more thankful for that Easter message then ever before.
