Happy Easter Sunday, sweet friends.
It’s early morning, and we’re only just beginning to toss around ideas for how the day will unfold. No grand plans. No strict agenda. Just coffee in hand and the familiar feeling of spring in the air.
Yesterday we spent most of the day outside—yard work, soaking up the sun, and bringing a little life back to our garden. It felt good to get our hands in the dirt, even if my back has a few complaints about it this morning. Today will probably look pretty similar. We’ll tinker around the yard some more, maybe make a nice lunch or dinner, and see if any of the kids decide to come by.
We’ve extended the invite. We’ll see.
It’s funny how Easter looks so different now than it did when I was growing up in South Baltimore. Back then, it was all about big family gatherings, lots of food, and the “picking eggs” tradition that made us feel like our goofy little rituals were somehow sacred. And they were.
But ever since my mom passed, the holidays feel… softer. Quieter. Sometimes a little lonely.
She was the glue. The planner. The warmth in every celebration. Losing her didn’t just leave a void in my heart—it left an empty chair at every table. Last year, I tried to replicate her traditions, to keep everything feeling “normal.” But it never did.
So now, I’m learning to let Easter evolve.
It’s no longer about chasing perfection or trying to recreate the past. It’s about presence. About finding little ways to feel connected—to myself, to Oscar, to nature, to whatever family decides to show up.
Maybe today won’t be full of loud laughter and overflowing plates. But if I get to spend it outside, breathe in fresh air, share a meal with someone I love, and tell a story or two about my mom, it’s a good Easter.
And who knows? Maybe this is the start of a new tradition. One that doesn’t need fanfare or fuss. One that simply says: “We’re still here. We’re still trying. And that’s enough.”
So wherever you are, whether you’re surrounded by loved ones or doing your best to keep the day light, I hope you find a moment of peace today. A moment of gratitude. Maybe even a good deviled egg.
Happy Easter, my dears. Here’s to new traditions, quiet joy, and the kind of love that lingers long after the ham is gone.
With love,
Aunty Christine 🫶🏻💜🤟🏻
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