Every Easter I pack my children in the car and drive to Corolla for three nights and four days of pure heaven. At 8:30 pm Saturday night, we go to a two-hour sundown Mass at Holy Redeemer Catholic Church.
With all the lights off, a procession begins in to the church with everyone holding a glow stick. The lights remain off for a good part of the Mass. My mother and my children are by my side, the ocean is behind us and everything is good.
This year…. this year will be different. Tomorrow I am still off to the Outer Banks for Easter, but with my daughter as the only passenger. We will meet my mother there and spend our Easter together, but without my teenage boys.
Each has something to do this weekend. They both came to me almost apologetically. “Mom… how would you feel if….” I think they were surprised I agreed to let them stay. As my oldest said, “Mom, you will need to get used to this soon anyway. I’ll be going to college in a little more than a year…”
How do you get used to your sons growing up and leaving you? It is what you are told to do, but then comes the first Easter when you don’t get to watch them find their Easter baskets. And your heart feels just a little bit empty.
I will be the first to admit that I have already prepared two Easter Baskets and hidden them in the house for them to find on Easter morning. It is something they are not expecting, with me being out of town. While I understand my boys are growing up, the Easter Bunny isn’t quite ready to let go. And for now, that’s OK.