Me, on Easter Sunday 1970. I am 4 here.
I have great memories of the Easter egg hunts my Mimi and Papa used to host at their little bungalow in Hawthorne, NY. All the cousins came and we were let loose in the yard to find the plastic eggs that were stuffed with goodies and taped shut every year.
As I recall, everyone got 12 — once you filled up a foam egg carton, you were done — and then we’d converge in the living room to count our loot.
I remember, too, sleeping on rollers and pin curls the night before so I’d have a fancy hairdo; beautiful new Easter dresses, sometimes sewn by Mom; new shoes; and coats with matching hats. I still love hats … and shoes!
(While looking for the above photo this morning, I got a kick out of noticing that my sister, Traci, wore many of my outfits — or at least the coats — the following year!)
Easter is a much more relaxed affair for us now, especially since Basil and Catherine are Orthodox and so won’t celebrate this year until May 4.
When she was little, Catherine loved having two visits from the Easter bunny each year (and some chocolate for breakfast!). And I had great fun “hiding” the eggs — often in plain sight for her to find.
She’ll be 17 on Tuesday; I guess she’s a little too old for that now.