The Death of the Easter Bunny

I had a rotten childhood but one thing was always good for me was the holidays. I'd like to think that holidays were always exceptionally better for me than other children's. One thing that sticks out in my memory is Easter. Elaborate treasure hunts leading to lavish Easter baskets filled with gifts of pastel colored chocolates and small toys. Trading candy with my siblings. Being a child of divorce I had double the holiday festivities. going from double to nothing is something that still depresses me.

Holidays just aren't the same. I was never warned that ribbon lined baskets of goodies would not appear at my bedside in April once I had entered adult life. I opened my eyes this morning (this afternoon really) and its just another day. Just another Sunday. A Sunday before a Monday.Sure, I could buy my own supplies and construct a basket that is equally worthy if not better, sure I could persuade my boyfriend to make me a basket to enjoy. It wouldn't be the same. I would know that chocolate eggs cost money and no mysterious rabbit dropped it off and wrote my name on it in pink puff paint with its furry little paws.

Oh Easter when will you return to me? When has life become such an empty basket? Or no basket at all?

much love,
Judas