Every year we have the same dilemma: all the kids are grown, and Mom doesn't really want to "do Easter."
Now, I consider myself somewhat of a supportive daughter, so I tell her that it's fine. A nice dinner and enjoying the day together is all we really need. I guess 23 is a good age to give up an egg hunt, right?
But no matter how much reassurance she gets — and trust me, she gets a lot — her genuine need to make everyone feel special and important always takes over. I don't know if it's in her DNA or a superpower she picked up from a radioactive spider, but her tendency to go above and beyond always seems more like a need than a want.
And records show that she tends to cave right about five hours before the event. Because in my family, procrastination is a tradition.
For some reason, I thought this year might be different. But after a few failed attempts at reaching her, I called my dad Easter morning to figure out why she was dodging my calls.
"Oh, we're at Walmart," he sighed, like he's been following her around for days. "She's getting supplies."
"Could you kindly ask her why she's ignoring my calls?"
"She said she didn't hear her phone ring."
Oh right, that excuse. Really she was hiding the fact that instead a simple Easter dinner, she was planning to fill 120 eggs for one 6 year old and four adults. Classic Audrey.
Upon arrival to my Granddad's house, I found the rooms covered in streamers, Easter eggs hidden in every corner and not one, but TWO kinds of casserole to chose from. And even despite her swearing off the typical kid activities for the holiday, she had Easter baskets for both Nick and I. She didn't even know for sure if he was coming. I'm starting to think her superpowers also include mind reading (or she's just a really good stalker).
Like all of our holidays, it was magic. And not the kind you feel as a kid, when you think some mystical creature left you the perfect gift. It was the kind you feel as an adult, when you realize how lucky you are to have people care who care about you. I could ramble on, but I think my Mom said it best in her personal Facebook post:
"The holidays always make me miss the ones that are no longer here a little more and hold the ones that are here a little closer. Like it or not life is always changing, the challenge is to appreciate the now."
So while the adult me is starting to wonder if the "will she or won't she" game my mom annually plays is actually just a part of her plan, I think I'll let the kid me hold on to the magic of it all for a few more years.