Happy Easter 2025

“The very first Easter taught us this: that life never ends and love never dies.” — Kate McGahan.

Easter has always been a time of reflection and renewal, a moment to celebrate the resurrection and the deep bonds of love that connect us. As I look back on my own Easter memories, I realize how much they’ve shaped me—and how much I didn’t appreciate them until I grew older.

Growing up, Easter was always a big deal in my family. As a kid, I was all about the egg hunt—though, looking back, I now realize that wasn’t even the day’s main event. We’d start the morning with church, then come home, and the adults would get busy hiding the eggs. I can still remember the rush of excitement as we raced around the yard, searching for those colorful little treasures, eager to be the one who found the most. But what I didn’t realize then was that I should have been looking forward to the time spent with family, the conversations, and the laughter around the table rather than just focusing on the hunt.

By the time we were tired from running around, the house would be filled with the mouthwatering scent of ham and all kinds of delicious food. It was like a magic switch had been flipped—just when we thought we couldn’t eat another bite, the table would be set, and we’d all gather to enjoy a meal together. Afterward, we’d settle in for The Passion of the Christ. Now, I know it’s only about two hours long, but as a kid, it felt like it lasted forever. I used to swear it was a seven-hour movie! Time seemed to drag, but now I see it as just another part of the day that brought us together.

Looking back, I realize those little moments—like the egg hunt, the shared meals, and even sitting through the long movie—were the things that made Easter so special. It wasn’t just about the food or the hunt but about being together and creating memories. As a kid, I didn’t appreciate how precious that time was, how fleeting it would be as I got older.

Now, as an adult, I understand just how precious those moments were, especially since so much of my family is no longer around. I’ve come to appreciate the time spent with loved ones in a way I never could as a child. Easter doesn’t feel the same anymore. I work more Easters than I get to enjoy, and I’m surrounded by people who are spiritual but don’t really attend church—which is okay. I love my found family for who they are, but sometimes it feels like something’s missing. This year, Hector and I will watch one of my favorite religious movies, Jesus Christ Superstar. Is it sacrilegious? That’s for each person to decide, but for me, it’s a way to feel close to the meaning of the season.

What I really miss, though, is the Easter lunch. We had deviled eggs, quiche (back when a carton of eggs didn’t cost as much as a tank of gas!), honey-glazed ham, baked mac and cheese, and that lemon pound cake that always tasted like home. I will learn to make my mom’s mac and cheese and keep that recipe going. But It wasn’t just the food; it was the love behind it, the joy of sharing a meal together. I’d want to pass down those traditions if I ever had kids. But with just Hector and me now, it’s hard to imagine the same warmth and bustle around the table.