Easter Ricky Racers

Easter 
Childhood memories of baskets and the chocolate bunnies left for each of us kids.
I loved coloring the eggs, but finding them was so so.
Actually it was the thought of egg salad that made me pause.
Now my own children are grown and the house is strangely silent.
No clamoring to race off full tilt. To smoke your brother and find treasure.
A holiday ham was always in the oven, smelling divine.
I glance at the photos of years gone by, and a tear rolls down my cheek.
One of happiness and sadness at the same time.
life is surely a paradox
A master at pain and goodness and isolation and loneliness.
I would give anything to be with my Easter ricky racers again,