Okay. Sadness. Anger. Repeat.

Easter. I have no religious connection to the holiday at all. But I do have a strong connection to Cadbury Eggs. When I was a kid this was my favorite holiday. White frilly dresses with white lace gloves. Huge family dinners. The Easter Bunny always seemed to bring the coolest stuff. Tons of chocolate, paddle ball games, slinkies, bubbles. And everything was always pastel colored--a young girl's favorite color palette.

It's kind of hard to pinpoint exactly when I stopped caring about Easter as a holiday. It probably started shortly after high school. Then the door on Easter was slammed shut 10 years ago. It was the last holiday Dad was going to be alive for.  I was more than aware of this, as we were at month 4 of his projected 6 months left to live. And instead of my family of four just being together for our last holiday, we went to my aunt's house 3 hours away. My brother brought his weird girlfriend. Dad was in a lot of pain. The family mostly pretended it was just like any other holiday. And inside I was just pissed. Pissed that my dad was laying on the couch trying to sleep through his pain. Pissed that I was sharing his last holiday with all these people who weren't even comprehending what was really happening. My brother, his girlfriend, and I all left my aunt's house right after dinner I think. I just remember wanting to get out of there. I think that's what really sealed the deal that I wouldn't give another shit about Easter.

My mom still hasn't picked up on the fact that I keep Easter at arm's reach. Each year she asks if we're getting together or if we have plans for Easter. And each year I respond "No" to both questions. Then she gets together with her family or her boyfriend's family. I sit at home like it's any other Sunday.

Now that my stepdaughter is living with us though, it's not quite like any other Sunday. We (well, I) put together an Easter basket for her to wake up to this morning. Complete with all the pinks and greens and yellows and blues. Her excitement reminded me of the excitement I used to have about the day. Having kids around, even teenage ones, brings you back a bit to the days gone by. I'm sure you can figure out where I'm going with this next...

I wish I could have this realization and reconnection with life with my daughter. I would hate to make this seem as though I hold resentment toward my stepdaughter--far from it. I'm just angry again. At the situation. It's a calm anger today though. Yesterday was sad. It's like a constant cycle of emotions that change daily. Or hourly. Ever changing...