When everyone is together like that, there's not really enough room at mom's house, so the way it usually works out is that Kelly and I go up to my grandma's house to sleep. The reason I mention this is because when I was younger, I lived with grandma for awhile. We used to “discuss” the thermostat setting at night because grandma used to turn it way down so that you could see your breath in the morning. Now, as she's gotten older, she cranks it up. Way up. Neither Kelly or I slept with a single cover on and when I got up in the morning, I looked at the thermostat and was stunned to see that the temperature read 78 degrees. I'm not complaining because she needs to be warm, but 78 degrees is pretty warm sleeping weather. One thing that was really nice though, was that we could hear the frogs from the woods across the road. It made me feel like I was a kid again (with the obvious exception of having a woman in bed with me). It definitely created a sense of nostalgia though.
After taking a shower, I sat at the dining room table and talked with grandma for a few minutes while Kelly took her shower. She said something to me that sort of stunned me. We were looking out the window into her back yard and I was thinking about the trees that used to be there that aren't anymore and the garden that used to be there that isn't anymore and I heard grandma say “I sure wish we could go back about 30 years. That would make you pretty young (15), but it would sure do me a lot of good.” My grandma is 91 now and she's only wishing for 30 years. I mean, if you're going to wish for time back, go big. If I'm 90 and asking for time, I'm asking for at least 60 years. But that's what separates my grandma from a lot of people. She doesn't ask for anything very often, and never more than she needs.
We went back to mom's for breakfast before church and gave the kids their Easter baskets. Nothing crazy, but something anyway. We went in to church and saw a lot of people that I hadn't seen in awhile so that was nice. One thing that kind of cracked me up a little was my son. When I was his age, I didn't like going to church and I sat through the whole service just waiting for it to be over. I looked over at him a few times during the sermon and I saw that look on his face.
After church, we went back to mom's and got changed and my brother Graham asked if everyone wanted to play wiffleball. The kids were all on board so we went outside and Graham broke out all the stuff he had brought up with him. We had bats, balls, gloves, and even bases. Everyone with the last name of Church and under the age of 60 played, at least for a little while. I always love my family, but especially at times like that when we're all together doing one thing and having fun doing it. I was proud of my son Andrew because even though sports aren't his thing, he got out there and played for a little bit. (And thank-you Graham, for talking him into it.)
Even though it didn't start out this way, it ended up being boys against girls. Unfortunately for the boys, we were pretty severely outnumbered. We had such a good time playing out there that in my mind, if we didn't do anything else, the trip would have been worth it. Late in the game, I was up to bat and I hit a fly ball out by where my wife was playing in the outfield. She was going back on the ball and hit an uneven patch of ground and started to fall. It was like something on TV in slow motion. It looked like she was going to get her hand down and right herself, but then it just didn't happen and down she went. Not a bad fall or anything, but if you know Kelly at all, you know that not catching the ball bothered her worse than the fall. Abbie ran out there and tried to help her up and asked if she was ok and Kelly pulled her to the ground and rolled around with her for a few seconds. She got up quick though when Graham ran for his phone and started yelling “Stay down for a sec, Stay there!”
After the game was over, we went up to Grandma's for dinner and it was quite the feast. My Aunt Sue and Uncle Jerry and our cousin Daniel came for dinner and Daniel's son Dillon was there too.
Graham and Clay went back to mom's to hide the plastic eggs which were filled with all manner of unhealthy goodies and soon the hunt was on. It was so much fun watching the kids find the eggs, especially when they thought they had found a well-hidden one. I have no idea whether or not they all got found or not, but whatever they didn't find, I'm sure the lawn mower will discover later this summer.
After the egg hunt, we went over to where the pinata was hanging. It was a big easter egg and it was packed completely full of stuff. We let Dillon go first and gave him one of the bats we used in the wiffleball game. He whiffed on his first swing, so we let him go again. He took his cut and split the egg completely in half, spilling all the contents on the blanket laid out underneath. I thought that the other kids would be mad that they didn't get to hit it, but instead, there was just a loud noise of excitement as they all rushed forward to get the prizes.
After cleaning things up, everyone started getting their things together preparing to leave and go home. Our drive home was long, but uneventful and after dropping the kids off at their mom's house, Kelly and I came home and just sat on the couch for a little while before going to bed.
I don't mean to make out like our Easter is so much more special than anyone else's, but this year was kind of a big deal for me. The arrangement that my ex-wife and I have for holidays is that I have the kids for Thanksgiving and she has them for Easter. Due to my radiation and chemo treatments, I asked Liz to take them for Thanksgiving last year and she agreed so I asked if I could have them for Easter this year, so it was kind of a rare occurance for them to be there with the rest of my family for Easter.
During this whole process, I have discovered that there are days that are wins and days that you wish you could just give back and say “I don't want this day again.” Sunday was a win.
I Will Win
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