Ditto, Dad.

Another Easter has come and gone and another Easter made me miss my dad all over again. Easter was his holiday.  He hated holidays that required real shopping, decorating or stress but loved a holiday that allowed for some sneaking around.  Halloween was a good one for him, too.  But Easter, he really loved.  He enjoyed coloring eggs and would draw tacky-ass shit like toilets and roadkill with the magic crayon in the egg coloring kits, just to make me laugh. Then, after I was asleep, he'd set to work with his carrots and Cocoa Puffs cereal in the backyard, creating the best messy bunny and poop trails ever.  I actually bought into the Easter Bunny a good two years after I knew Santa was a lie. But the most amazing thing was that every Easter morning, just after I got up, he'd say, "Oh, look, Lisa!  It's the Easter bunny!" and I'd look out back and sure enough, there would be a huge brown rabbit in the yard. Granted, we lived against a bit of wooded area but every single Easter morning?  That's odd.  One morning he told me that Mrs. Bunny had stayed behind to have her babies and I remember going out into the chilly, damp morning barefoot, the tail of my nightgown getting all wet, and seeing a little nest of babies up against our house, nestled in some pipes and mulch.  I was sold on the Easter Bunny, let me tell you. As an adult, I asked my dad about those bunnies every Easter, since we lived out the woods with Jake and we never had that kind of luck.  He just laughed and said he would ask them to come.  Riiiiiight.  I  wondered about this statement, though, since I'd seen firsthand that he could actually communicate with animals to a degree (remind me to tell y'all about our Irish Setters sometime because the stories are amazing) but I still blew it all off as a coincidence.  I mean, who does that...you know?

Saturday night, it's late, I'm going in and out my back door to do laundry and sent up a quick little prayer. "Hey, Dad, if you still hear me, will you send me a bunny in the back yard for Easter, so I know you're still with us?"  I got up yesterday morning and peeked out back.  Nothing.  Went out and looked around. Nothing.  Honestly, I just sort of laughed at myself, even though I was a tiny bit disappointed...I'd been foolish in hoping.  I fixed my coffee and was sitting down at the computer when my mom called.  We wished each other happy Easter, made our plans for the day, I filled her in on some gossip and before we hung up she said, "By the way, would you believe I saw a big, fat rabbit in the backyard this morning?  I had to laugh, it reminded me so much of your dad and his Easter bunnies.  It's been years since I've seen a rabbit at all."  Well, damn, Dad, I guess I forgot to specify which backyard I wanted it in, didn't I?   

Then, my dad always called Jake his little lamb (when he wasn't calling him a baby girl, lol, so it's no wonder Jake has no gender lines) and all four Easters they were together,  he bought Jake a lamb stuffed toy.  Yesterday morning, Jake walks in the door after spending the night with a friend and I'm cleaning the bathroom on the other other end of the house.  I holler out "Who is it?", as I always do, and the answer I get back is not the normal "It's me!"...oh, no.  I hear "It's your little lamb...happy Easter!"  I came out fast and demanded to know why he said that.  He laughs and tells me "I don't know, that's just what came out when my mouth opened. It's Easter...relax, Mom!"

Good enough, Dad. :-)

I love you, too, and thank you.