I wanted to write about Easter in a way that would make you fall on your face and cry out to a holy and loving God.
I wanted to dance with joy, throwing freshly opened pink and lilac tulips around the house, because my Savior is risen.
I wanted to be joyous and inspiring, and dare I say Pinnable this Easter, but I haven’t had a personality transplant over the weekend, so here’s my real story.
I woke up with a migraine, told everyone to shower before me, but save me enough hot water so that I won’t make all the blood vessels in my head explode the moment I step under the water. And then I went back to bed.
I get migraines in varying degrees. I don’t know if this is normal or not.
Some days I can load up on pills, lay down for a half an hour, and then work through the rest of the headache. Other days I want to saw my head off with a butter knife. No amount of prescription drugs can dull the pain.
Thankfully this was a minor migraine and I was dressed and ready in time for the obligatory family pictures.
We wrapped our legs around our necks, squished into my mom’s itty-bitty car, and headed off to church.
Ten minutes later…
“Did you put the ham in the oven?” My mom asked.
“Uh, no. Did you?”
Worse case scenario folks.
“You’ve gotta turn around.” I told my husband.
FringeMan convinced me that he didn’t have his keys, and I never have my keys. There are two things I cannot manage to hang on to – my keys and my phone.
I haven’t lost the kids in thirteen years, so I think that cancels out the fact that I can’t find my keys.
My husband would’ve made me climb through a window though. Absolutely.
Thankfully I have a son that is itching for the chance to go through a window, no good reason necessary, so he volunteered.
That’s when my husband pulled the keys out of his pocket.
All’s well that ends well.
The ham turned out beautifully. Best ham I’ve ever eaten; however, I did manage to invite another family over to share Easter dinner with us.
I only hesitated for half a second. In that half second, my mind recalled each room in our house as if it were looking at a snapshot.
I had that pesky migraine though in the morning and didn’t quite remember if the images in my head were reality, but I decided it couldn’t be that bad. Could it?
We swarmed the house like a set of worker bees intent on hiding dirty socks. My son’s room was picked up in under two minutes.
That is our Easter miracle.
I asked my husband to run to the store for napkins.
“Sure, you get real napkins for them and I get torn up paper towels.” Complained my mom.
“No, it’s a holiday. I was going to give you the whole paper towel today.” I said.
That’s when I really lost the keys.
Suddenly we had a clean house, a cooked ham, and no keys.
You guys, the I Love Lucy show has nothing on me. Nothing.
Easter was also my mom’s birthday.
I won’t tell you how old she is, because she might take a knife to my throat. I have photo friends. It’s been done before.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM
I love you.
I won’t count all the ways, because that would take all week, but I will say that I am thankful for you and blessed by you.