Holidays, for me, are always a little tough. Firstly, because my mother is no longer with us. Secondly, because there is always one (or two) moments where I bemoan being a single parent. Not because you can be ridiculously busy. I’m fine with that. For me, the sadness comes from the loneliness that surrounds a single parent, from not having that other person to share the memory making moment with.
This time it was the Easter Sunday Eve – aka bunny nite – that brought those tears to my eyes. Getting ready for the big, bouncing guy’s arrival, I did what Moms and Dads have to do. As I was getting giddy inside, I subconsciously turned to share the prediction of how the morning would play out, but of course there was no one there. There never is anyone there to share in that giddy laughter bursting to break out. Bombarded by ALONE, I quickly finished and dutifully started fighting off the scrampies.
A friend had wanted to come over that night and as much as I, the adult, wanted someone to be there to share the fun, it didn’t feel right. They wouldn’t really enjoy it as much as me and this was all about my little angel… not about Mommy. So I declined, postponed the visit and held a brave face as I sulked to bed.
Easter Sunday came, Davis waking me at 5:45 to tell me, “…the mean boooys twied to take you but I didn’t let them,” (apparently this was her waking dream and she was proud of her feat in never never land.) At 6:05 I gave up on the notion of more sleep and alerted her to the fact the Easter Bunny had come.
Excited and slightly unsure what to expect, Davis crept out of the room and down the hall until she spotted the first egg. Then she stood by the toy covered sofa for five minutes before realizing that was where the Easter Bunny had laid her loot. The innocence of three. Next year she’ll know exactly where to look.
We looked at presents, hunted eggs, played games and even did a painting together all before 9a.m. Everything about the morning was about her and she loved it. Thing is, Mommy might have loved it more.
For the next six hours I pulled out my best 1950’s domestic housewife impression and cooked, cleaned, and washed dishes while hosting a brunch for 13 people. Remarkably, not one ounce of my body felt tired, drained or bored. None of the scrampies from the night before could break through my barrier of happiness. My sweet daughter was so excited every time another person that came to the door. Giggling and in non-stop talk mode, Princess D was a burst of continuous bubbling energy. Add that to the chatter of people amidst the squeals of kids and the symphony of perfection was complete. This is what the Easter Bunny tradition is about – spending time with loved ones and making it about your kids.
That’s when it hit me. The epiphany: I’m never alone. Forget feeling ALONE. That’s all in your head. A perception that you have the power to change by remembering you aren’t alone. You always have your beautiful child and doing things that makes them happy keeps those negative scrampies away.
After everyone left and the dishes were done the day didn’t stop being about Davis. Exhaustion showed in every crease of her sweet little face. Content as she was she was beat but not ready for bed. Wanting to watch a movie, I got her set up. “Mommy, sit and watch this movie with me,” came her soft little plea. Staring into those beautiful brown eyes I couldn’t say no. Settling beside her, we cuddled and I reminded myself laundry could wait. Today was about her and I was going to enjoy every minute of it.