Bloganuary writing prompt
Write about a few of your favorite family traditions.

When I was a child, I enjoyed our holiday traditions. My sweet mother, Dotty Allen, made sure our childhood days were the best that they could be. Each holiday we spent together held so much magic and warmth and I have missed those days.

For every holiday and a few special Sunday mornings, Mom would make us those Pillsbury Orange Rolls to go along with our breakfast. We thought they were heavenly! As a child, my bedroom was right off the kitchen, and I loved to wake up to the sounds of mom singing in the kitchen while preparing breakfast. 

The day before Easter, we would dye eggs, a family tradition my brothers and I looked forward to each year. Mom would buy the Paas Easter Egg Dye kits, grab coffee mugs from the cabinet, and make the colorful concoctions. I loved how the dye stained the inside of the cups, and I was always a little sad when the colors finally faded. 

In the evenings after the boys went to bed, Mom and I would hide eggs in the house or in the backyard. On Easter morning, it was fun to watch my little brothers find the colored eggs. We even filled plastic eggs with jelly beans or chocolates and hid those little gems too.

Mom always made a special dinner for Easter too. She always made a ham with all the fixings. I loved it when my grandparents could visit too. Now, one year, I will never forget was when my Grandpa came into our kitchen laughing with my Grandma. When we heard their laughter, my brothers and I ran to greet them. On that rare occasion, they were affectionate with one another. It was the first and last time, I ever witnessed them kissing. Grandpa leaned down and sweetly kissed my Grandma. Then he stood up, wrapped an arm around my Grandma, and asked, “Isn’t she a sweet Honey Bunny?”

I have always cherished those special moments with my family. 

Photo by Євгенія Височина on Unsplash

Easter Sunday

1One family tradition I enjoyed as a child was Easter Sunday. It was a time for family and fun. We would all dye Easter eggs, and mom made sure that each of her five chicks had at least a dozen eggs to color. Coffee cups held the many colors of green, yellow, purple and pink, and I always loved the fact that the inside of each cup remained a lovely Easter shade until the color slowly faded away until the following year.

We would all gather around the kitchen table, excited, and everyone would start talking at once. My brothers tried to prolong the egg dying experience for as long as possible, and well, sometimes their eggs would turn out to have the strangest colors imaginable. My eggs, on the other hand, reigned supreme with soft regal pastel colors. Some had polka dots, or rabbit faces created with coloring crayons and then dye. But no matter how they turned out, we enjoyed them, and my mama would make us feel like we were little Michelangelos in the world of Easter Eggs. Continue reading “Easter Sunday”