I Hate Easter!

For most people, Easter is a joyous time. It's the ending of Lent for some, the celebration of the risen Christ, or for other's it's just another day where chocolate is scattered around the house for you to find. As I've grown up, I've always loved Easter. Even after I was too old to believe in the Easter bunny, I still played along for the sake of my younger brothers. I always dressed up and went to church with my mom, and helped her make a turkey for dinner. Easter has always signified family and chocolate.

3 years ago, my life changed. I was at work in my parent’s office on Easter Monday and my Aunt called. Instead of small talk she immediately asked to speak to my father. I knew something was wrong. I continued to work but kept my eye on the phone to see when my Dad is off the phone. As soon as he hung up, he came into my office and told his secretary to transfer all of his calls to his voicemail because he would be out of the office for a couple days.

He looked visibly upset. At that point, I have never seen my Dad cry, but he was very close to it. He sat down with me and told me that my Bumpa had to take my Nannie to the hospital that morning. He said that when he woke up, Nannie wasn't breathing. He told me that she was still alive on a machine and the doctors were waiting for all her children to arrive in Edmonton before they pulled the plug. He told me that although she was still breathing, she was brain dead and she was already in heaven.

I couldn't believe what he was saying. I had just talked to her the night before! She told me that she was feeling a lot better. I had just got accepted to University the week before and she told me how proud she was of me. Our conversation was short, but I told her I loved her and passed the phone onto my brother. What I found out later was that she had called all of her children and talked to all of her grandchildren that same night to say Happy Easter. It was almost like she knew what was coming, and she was saying her final good-byes.

I was in a daze. Tears were constantly streaming down my face. The pain inside me was more than I could bear. I collapsed in the middle of the office and just sobbed. I felt like my heart was broken. Suddenly I was thrown in the midst of something I had never experienced before. My Mom, brothers and myself flew to Edmonton the day after my Dad. The family was all there already, we were the last to arrive. I was so overwhelmed with everything and how calm everybody was! I couldn't help wondering how everybody could be so calm and upbeat. I felt like I was dieing inside and everybody else was smiling.

My older cousins took me to the mall to get an outfit for the funeral. It was fun to get to know them, but at the same time whenever a sales lady would ask us what the occasion was, I felt my heart breaking again. My cousins really were my rock for those couple days.

The day before the funeral the minister came to my Aunts house to talk with the family. We all sat around in the living room sharing stories about this great woman. What I had never realized was that she had made a nick-name up for all her granddaughters and used it instead of their name. Mine was Squirtcha. Every card I got from her, and every time I talked to her she would call me that. I have no idea where it originated from, but it's something I will cherish forever.

After the funeral my cousins and I went out on the town. "Nannie would have wanted it" we told all of our parents. I was only 18, but luckily for me, the drinking age in Alberta is 18. So we got hammered. Not a little bit drunk, but puking for the next 24 hours drunk. That plane ride back to Ontario the next day was one of the worst things I've ever done.

That Easter, this world lost an Angel. They lost a practical joker, a loving mother and grandmother. Easter has forever been changed for me; it is now a time to remember the greatest woman who ever lived. I pray that one day, I will be half the woman she ever was.