My mother loved Easter, Gentle Reader, and holidays of all kinds. When I lived in New Orleans when I was younger, we would have huge gatherings of family and friends at our house, or a relative’s house. Easter egg hunts for the kids, feasts of food and fancy for everyone, and usually a wicked game of bourre, which is like Cajun Poker.
I was lucky, growing up in the bosom of a large family–aunts and uncles and cousins galore–even though I’m an only child. My Mom was the oldest of six, so she was used to large gatherings, reveled in them, in fact.
I miss my mom every day, but today, especially today, a little bit more.
The Postmodern Bluestocking 