We came home from church to find an Easter basket on the porch:
It has one of my favorite pictures of the Savior, and is from after the resurrection – for which I am so extra grateful for now that I have lost both my parents.
It was from my dear friend Christy, who was so good and kind and loving to my mom, the woman who taught my mom about covenant keeping, the one who showed her she was loved.
The day mom died, I had gone in the morning to the dollar store to get little notebooks for the youth to use with their family history project. At the checkout, they had Cadbury eggs even though it was super early for Easter.
I got a few for mom, and went to her house to leave them as a surprise. She loved them, and I knew it would be a good treat when she got home from her day with my brother’s family.
Only she never came home.
I cried later that night to see them there, waiting for her, when we had to go pick up her dogs since she wasn’t coming home.
I used one of the eggs in the talk I gave at new beginnings, telling this story and how easy it is to be kind and love in tiny ways that mean a lot to another person. When I finished my talk, I gave the egg to Christy on my way out, without saying anything, because it had been Christy who was a friend to my mom and loved her well.
I cried when I saw what was in the basket:
What a sweet and special way to show she was thinking of me, but also to so specifically remember my mom.
I am glad there are people who remember her.
I will never forget.
And today is a special day to remember, because today is the only thing that gives us hope.
It is because of the resurrection that a girl can breathe again after two miscarriages and the deaths of both parents.
It is because of the atonement – and only because of the atonement – that a girl can qualify to see any of them again.
I am grateful for this day, this Easter weekend after Passover week, where my tears are bitter and sting a little, but the truth is sweet and comforting.
I am thankful for this truth, and for good friends who remember with me, and for in-laws and other “parents” who know I am hug-deprived, and for a husband who knows tears and chocolate call for piano music that soothes.
It is a hard day, of course, but a good one. I am happy, and filled with gratitude. I know there is happiness, even when it comes with tears.