Easter Sundays

October 4, 2016

I will never forget the great times I had at my Grandpa’s house. From my young childhood years through my junior high school years my family celebrated everything from birthdays, to Thanksgiving Day, and even Christmas Eve at his house. My entire family would gather there and spend the day together. Every celebration was eventful, but none were as enjoyable as Easter with my Grandpa.

Easter Sunday would begin at home with my mom and I running around trying to get ready so we were not late for the festivities at his house. After making sure we had the wiffle ball kit, football, and of course the food my mom prepared, we would head out. It was about a thirty minute trip from our house in Auburn to my Grandpa’s house in Moravia. We loved the scenery of all the farmland and driving on our favorite road, Burdock Road. It felt as if it we were on a roller coaster ride.  We would speed straight down the hill, yelling of course, and then all of a sudden we found ourselves going straight up to the top of the hill. It felt as if we were going to ride the road into the clouds. As we arrived at my Grandpa’s house we found his winding driveway that traveled through a wooded area.  His house could faintly be seen from below. Each time we drove up the driveway, especially in the winter, I wondered how hard it must have been for my mom to manage it, but she would always tell me it was “a piece of cake.”
Once we got to the top of the driveway and got out of the car we were always quickly greeted by big hugs from my Grandpa and all of my aunts and uncles who were equally excited to be at the get together. Usually we would begin the festivities with my Grandpa’s famous Easter egg hunt.  It always started shortly after arrival, so that no one tried to cheat by searching for eggs before it really began.

My Grandpa spent hours the day before preparing for his Easter egg hunt as he hid over 125 eggs throughout the yard and in the woods near his home. He often hid them in spots hard for kids to reach.  Once he even put one at the top of a tree. My uncle had to climb to the top of the tree to reach it. Inside of the eggs were anything from gold dollar coins to a few smarties. Candy and money were not the only prizes we would win from the egg hunt. Every egg had a number on it.  At the end of the hunt the number on the egg may have matched a movie from his massive movie collection, or the number on a kite, or toy truck. If your number matched you won the prize!

Following the egg hunt we had a big cookout which included my grandpa’s homemade french fries in his fryer. Everyone brought a dish to pass, and often much more.  We ate until we couldn’t possibly eat any more. The day would not end without a kids versus adults wiffle ball game. There was no better feeling than hitting a ball far back into the woods making the adults hike through the woods to grab it as we raced around the bases. The kids rarely won, but that made wins feel even better. After the game everyone relaxed, enjoyed dessert, and depending on the time, everyone began to leave.

None of the kids left without a fight. Everyone was always stuffed and exhausted and most of the time I dazed into a sleep on the way back home dreaming of the next time our family would be together. It felt as it was the end of the day even though it was roughly 5:00pm by the time we got home. I couldn’t wait until I got to see them again. Reflecting back on it now, I really miss the celebrations with my Grandpa.  He passed away when I was 12 and I will forever miss him. Everyone should cherish family memories because our family members don’t live forever and once your family is altered by death, life just won’t be the same as you once remembered.

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