Easter memory

The above photo was taken when I was pretty young. I'm the one on the left and my oldest brother is next to me, and then the middle brother on the right. This was taken in the first house we lived in on Minnekahta Ave. 

I don't know when my family stopped celebrating major holidays like Easter. I think some of my family still do celebrate. Maybe we stopped after realizing we had a million eggs to eat. I remember eating hardboiled eggs days after Easter, their flesh unnatural colors like pink and blue and green in spots. 

This photo is funny for many reasons. I am particularly taken with that egg I'm holding. I'm also half-dressed in what looks like a sort of tutu. My oldest brother is wearing an animal print robe, which no child should ever wear. My brothers look like they are so over decorating those eggs (was it early in the morning?). I look like I want to marry mine. 

I recall the little cubes or whatever we dropped into the cups that had the spoons in them. There was a smell of vinegar and sulfur (eggs) that is still stuck in my nostrils when I think of it. I think there were stickers, as well. Dying the eggs was an early chemistry lesson I'll never forget. 

My memories of this house on Minnekahta (our first house) are sparse. Maybe those memories are stored in a different way than the rest of my memories. I think one has to have a good sense of self in order to create and retain memories, and I probably didn't have that in those first seven years or so. Most of my memories are filled in with photographs. 

I think everyone who lived during that era had kitchen appliances that were on par with the color of that refrigerator. I love those organic colors, the color of wood (even wood paneling, which is decidedly not wood), and sometimes I even give wallpaper a nod. Everyone had those alphabet magnets, as I recall. And their kids' art projects on the fridge. Those were the days. 

Though my life may not have been perfect, it's the life I was given. At the same time I was given some unfair circumstances early in life, I was also given extraordinary talents. My life has been strange, for sure. But pictures like this warm my heart. I was a happy, carefree child once upon a time, taken with the world around me, in love with my little place on the planet. I loved those around me, even though they hurt me immensely at times. I was loyal to them and still care about them. We don't get to choose who is in our family. But we can choose to love them in spite of how they may have treated us. 

I hope I retain some of that childlike wonder as I age. It's important to continue to grow and progress and stay in love with life and the Giver of Life. It's important to find a passion and pursue it, to seek out love even when it seems to run away from you. 

My childhood was analog. I spent time outdoors a lot. I loved to watch things grow and change. I loved the natural world because it is a connection to my Creator. My son will have a different upbringing, for sure. But I hope he still seeks out his Creator in much the same way. And I hope his art projects end up on my fridge, too. Yes, glancing that direction tells me they're already there. 

Thank you for reading. And God bless.