The Easter Bunny tiptoed downstairs this morning to deliver baskets to my parents. My mother, the early riser, was out of bed but had lain down on the sofa in the main living space.
The dog Vern rose up and jangled his collar as I placed the baskets and a small ceramic bunny on the table. My mother didn't stir. Success!
But when I got upstairs, I realized I hadn't put the kites in their baskets! I snuck down again...Vern jangled...and I again made my getaway!
THEN I realized I'd forgotten the Sweedish Fish in the plastic eggs! (I needed coffee.) I filled six eggs and Ninja-ed downstairs again. By this time Vern was wide awake and prancing to greet me. I got the eggs into the baskets when my mom, on the sofa, opened her eyes and said, "Hi!"
"Shhhh," I said. "Pretend you didn't see the Easter Bunny." I darted up the stairs.
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When I checked on my parents 30 minutes later, they were enjoying the basket trinkets (dried fruit, KitKat bars, small Polly Pocket dolls and Lego men; one egg held my mom's morning meds). She did not mention catching me in the Easter Bunny act.
They then watched the recorded service from their home church in Ft. Dodge.
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At lunch, I brought down a pastel tablecloth embossed with rabbits and eggs, along with two settings of my good china and crystal. I served up all the holiday fixings: mustard-honey pork roast, baked garlic grits, broccoli-cheese casserole, pear and melon salad, apple crisp for dessert. Upstairs, Dan and I ate the same meal, sans china and crystal.
I took my deserved post-holiday-meal nap (two hours!) before heading downstairs to orchestrate my parents' Easter egg hunt. Because their dog loves nothing more than eggs, I decided to hide them in an unused bedroom, keeping Vern away from the action while simplifying the egg-hunting terrain for my parents.
I armed them each with a small basket and explained that all seven of the eggs we'd dyed on Saturday were within sight. "Stop when you've found four eggs!"
They were off! I videotaped the 2.5-minute egg hunt, which you can watch here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7JRdRSDm_6o
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My mother-in-law Janet lives a mile from us. She has been living alone since Leon died eight years ago. Although she is my parents' age, she is in remarkably good shape, both mentally and physically. Tonight we worked on a puzzle before moving on to the day's accordion lesson. I enjoy her as a friend, an equal, a peer.
In many of my interactions with my parents, I feel the same way. But at other times I find myself tilting my lens, adjusting my wording, click-click-clicking my perspective to make sense of our interactions. Moving between my fully-functioning mother-in-law and my almost-functioning parents requires re-calibration.
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This evening I delivered my mom's dessert (butterscotch pudding) and her meds (in a pink plastic egg) in a small wicker basket.
Tonight Dan said it hadn't felt much like Easer. "Really?" I said. "It felt like Easter in the basement!"
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