This is a picture of me on my first Easter. My brother Paul is there beside me in his fashionable beret. I have noticed that many times when we had our pictures taken Paul got to wear this particular hat. I have no idea why. Maybe it was the hat all the kids wore when they were three going on four, like Paul. I know there is a picture of me when I was around three wearing the self-same hat. Waste not, want not.
But back to Easter. I can see that Paul has a basket with some eggs in it. By looking at it closely I know exactly what basket that is. It was given to my family by our friends, Joe and Maxine Lord. It had been handed down in their family from a relative and I guess my mom admired it so we got it. I have it now. For many years it sat in tarnished splendor on the back of the sideboard in our dining room. Neglected and only brought out when we needed something to put Christmas greenery in or an appropriate decoration for Easter or some other holiday. It was never polished as long as I remembered it. And it ended up with a few dents and dings over its long life.
A few years ago I inherited it along with a lot of other left-overs from my family's long career of saving everything that crossed their path. I had it re-plated, the dings smoothed out and now it sits on my dining room table on various occasions with Christmas decorations or Easter eggs or leaves at Thanksgiving. But it is polished and when not in use, I put it away where it will not be bumped and battered.
You may wonder why I have strayed from my theme of Easter 1946. I guess this picture brought to mind just how precious things become to us over time. I wouldn't trade my memories of Easter gatherings and fun and frolic for anything. And seeing my brother Paul, now gone for seven years, and me sitting in relative harmony, amidst the iris on a cool Easter morning makes me smile and remember those happy days.
Happy and blessed Easter to all of you. May you make many happy memories to cherish for a long, long time.
