Another Easter Sunday

I remember that as I was getting older, I would be upset with my folks when they would say about certain occasions,” It’s just another day.”

Once again, Easter hits me hard in that my parents are not here with me. My nephew Greg bought me a white hyacinth-something I traditionally would have gotten my mother, and at least a little piece of my history is repeated. Of course, it would stand to follow that I am married to a man who is allergic to flowers every time someone give me some. Not a good call for a flower lover such as myself, but, ah, the price of love….

Kielbasa was a staple of my Easter, but I would be the only one who ate it. My husband would make a few stabs at it, but that is how it goes, If you haven’t been brought up with it, I guess, you have no ties to it.

So instead, I will hold a fire in my heart for Easters past. My heart aches for my parents, but hey,

“It’s just another day.”……

Right?

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