Just how did Grandmother and Granddaddy Jordan know where all the Easter eggs were hidden? Did they have a direct line to the Easter Bunny? Were they in cahoots with him?
I’ve had these questions for a very long time. Ever since Grandmother Kay blurted out, “Oopps there’s one more out there, why don’t you look behind the tire!”
At the Jordan house Easter was big. Almost like Christmas minus the red and green wrapping and all of the presents of course. But the enormity of love, food, tradition, and worship was precious.
Granddaddy was a Methodist preacher and this was our Easter tradition. It was important to him that his great grand baby had a new Easter dress so he’d take me to Kerrville to shop at the local Gold’s Department Store. Yes that really dates me.
Kay was a great cook and I looked forward to her spread every year. We were guaranteed to have her classic orange Jell-O salad with carrots and her famous 7Up Pound Cake.
The night before Easter brought big doings.
Kay would set me up with a PAZ coloring kit. There was a dish for every color and we’d dye eggs together. I knew things were getting serious when she’d sneak into the other room to assemble my Easter basket that always included a giant chocolate bunny.
Granddaddy would roll his typewriter out to the kitchen table and type his sermon as I set my decorated eggs out to dry.
Easter Sunday came and we’d head off to church with Granddaddy to have donuts and coffee before the service. I distinctly remember that all of the old ladies would kiss and hug me that inevitably caused an allergic reaction signified by a sneezing fit.
When we pulled the car in the driveway from church the green lawn would be speckled with Easter eggs! The Easter Bunny had come.
I was always amazed that somehow the Bunny had managed to hide all of the eggs just in the nick of time. As they put the car in park and I was in the yard.
Leaving Grandmother and Granddaddy’s house was always hard.
You see I was the apple of their eye. I was their little one, their only great grand baby at the time. They were proud and I was spoiled. Very, very spoiled, as all grand kids should be.
In the days that followed it seemed like we had egg salad sandwiches for lunch and dinner with peanut butter eggs for dessert. And that was fine by me.
What are some of your precious Easter memories? How are you making new ones with your kids?