Madeleine and Julia came into the city last night. I stood in Grand Central waiting for them by the center clock. They slid out from the crowd laughing and told me quite pointedly I was looking in the wrong direction. I rolled my eyes as there was really nothing more to say. They’ve come in to help me prepare for Easter. I need the help but there is a part of me that feels like I’m passing the torch. This idea gives me great pleasure but I don’t let on. Throughout the day, I tell them about the vases I use or the various dishes. It’s their history I’m telling them only they don’t know it or really want to know it. Lisa mentioned picking the grace for Easter dinner and Julia asked, “Can we make it a happy one this time. I”m tired of all the sadness.” Lisa and I look at one another. Mourning our mother must become a personal prayer.
This morning I took them to the Farmer’s Market. The tulips didn’t catch my eye but the branches laden with flowers did. I bought those instead and a few Easter Lillies. “What are we going to do with those?” Julia was pointing to the branches that seemed to overflow from her cart. “You’ll see,” I said not really knowing what I would do. Truth was, these were inspiration and a wonderful excuse to use jugs passed down from her great grandparents.
The thing is, I have no idea what traditions will hold and what they will gladly let go of once they take over. I can’t tell when I’m with them if they think I’m daft or if there is sentiment under that guarded teenage attitude. All I know is it’s the comfort of family and the celebration of holidays that I want them to remember and be able to create for themselves. Tomorrows guest list is of a snap together gathering of friends and family. It really is what life is all about isn’t it? Enjoying the moment of where you are and who you are with.
At this writing I must snap it together and get to bed. I have a meal to prepare for in the morning…..