Warmer
Cold. You’re cold. Warm. Warmer. Warmmmer. Ooh, you’re hot.
I laid with my eyes closed under my parent’s large olive tree while my mother sat on a chair nearby and guided my little sister in finding the Easter eggs strewn about the garden.
Hot. Hotter. Oops, you got cold again.
I don’t know when the Easter egg hunt became a hot/cold game, but I didn’t mind that it broke tradition because every so often the warm-warmer-warmer was broken by my mother’s laugh. Her laugh—like a crescendo of whispering angels—was worth untying the knots of tradition.
Lounging in the yard wasn’t something my family usually does on Easter, but the weather beckoned us outside like a mythological siren. And we, like intoxicated sailors, followed her call. We played games and listened to Oldies on a nearby radio and the sun sporadically peeked through the branches of the olive tree.
As I laid with pinched eyes under the tree, I listened to the sounds of JD and my twin sister talking about the church service we attended earlier in the day and my little sister squealing every time she found a pastel egg hidden amongst the hydrangea. And I heard my mother laugh. These sounds will be stored in my heart forever as they will serve as a conduit for happiness in the future. I want to remember the squeal, the laughter, the sound of rustling leaves. I want to remember Easter.
Happy Easter everyone!
I laid with my eyes closed under my parent’s large olive tree while my mother sat on a chair nearby and guided my little sister in finding the Easter eggs strewn about the garden.
Hot. Hotter. Oops, you got cold again.
I don’t know when the Easter egg hunt became a hot/cold game, but I didn’t mind that it broke tradition because every so often the warm-warmer-warmer was broken by my mother’s laugh. Her laugh—like a crescendo of whispering angels—was worth untying the knots of tradition.
Lounging in the yard wasn’t something my family usually does on Easter, but the weather beckoned us outside like a mythological siren. And we, like intoxicated sailors, followed her call. We played games and listened to Oldies on a nearby radio and the sun sporadically peeked through the branches of the olive tree.
As I laid with pinched eyes under the tree, I listened to the sounds of JD and my twin sister talking about the church service we attended earlier in the day and my little sister squealing every time she found a pastel egg hidden amongst the hydrangea. And I heard my mother laugh. These sounds will be stored in my heart forever as they will serve as a conduit for happiness in the future. I want to remember the squeal, the laughter, the sound of rustling leaves. I want to remember Easter.
Happy Easter everyone!
posted by Jasmine at 9:37 PM
2 Comments:
Happy Easter, Jasmine!
Thank you for always sharing your heart. Your words are so inspiring!
God bless you, girl. My prayers are with you and your family.
Jasmine, you have so much talent and I love reading your blog. Thanks for sharing from the heart. Also, I want to thank you for spending a week in Vegas with me and for all of your selfless help! You're awesome! Mike
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