There is something about knowing it is your last time. As we continue to prep to sell our home, I realized that this Easter will be our last one here. Suddenly it becomes very nostalgic. Each thought around what to serve, how the table will look, what could we do extra consumes my thoughts.  And memories of Easters past come back to visit me.

We had years of egg hunts in this home, always ending up in the laundry room where the ‘big prize’ was hidden in the laundry chute. Friends and family would gather around our table, living out Zane’s definition of happiness; good food, good drink and good company.  We have been blessed.

I have kept our Easter traditions since the crash but with new twists. I make Easter bags to share with friends and family which now include a tube of bubbles to honor Zane. My daughter and I still dye eggs, with one, a bright blue for Zane. This ‘last time’ melancholy encourages me to look at this holiday and ask myself, what do I want this Easter to be? The last Easter in my children’s home.

We often say, “Oh, if only I had known it was the last time.  If only I had one more time.” Why don’t we treat each celebration, even each day, like it might be our last?  In the daily hustle, it is hard to slow down enough to think it might be the last time. We believe there will be more, many more, or at least one more.   But we have learned in the most tragic of ways and now we know better, there is never a guarantee for ‘One more’.

I encourage you this year, as holidays and special occasions arrive to treat them like the last time. Slow down to think about past times and traditions built around each one.  Consider ways to do things different or new or what might you always want the same. With each holiday, think of ways you can honor and include our children who are celebrating with us from a different realm. Acknowledging that each celebration may just be the last time does not have to be depressing. In fact, it can be the fuel to invite gratitude into our lives.  And that is good mourning.