Photo: fataetoile It's a dream…isn't it?

Growing up, Easter meant stuffy and grandiose hallelujah choruses at the Baptist church, passionate sermons by red-faced preachers, ham feasts, overstuffed pastel-colored baskets, gleeful hunts for rainbow-dyed-eggs–some never to be found until spotted rotten beneath the boxwoods months later. The night before found us scouring the mall to buy a frilly dress. By my 20s, those thin dressy dresses ended up being ill-suited for Easters that never turned warm anymore. The Easters of my youth are a melange of jelly beans, chocolate bunnies, family and other pastel washed memories.

My adult married years continued the tradition of getting dressed up for preachin', then eatin' with  family and the grand sugar finale, which actually started before breakfast. Lips slathered with melted chocolate. Fingers gooey from gummy candy. Those memories, too, are a blur of similar snapshots.

But the Easters of my Divorce, I can remember each vividly. The first, I brunched with my new best friend. I had not yet entered the world of dating but in a few months I would. (One year from my divorce.) The next Easter found me at that same brunch spot, a little casual eatery. An Easter orchid-colored cashmere sweater warmed me against the chill of a spring rain outside. My new best friend had moved to Alabama and I'd just broken up with my boyfriend and was alone with a newspaper spread before me. The next year found me taking that reunited boyfriend to South Carolina where we celebrated the day with a brunch and then road tripped back to Nashville. The year 2007 was a year of promise and change. I hosted a brunch that year. It was also the Easter when everything froze. And then burnt to a crisp that coming summer. I'd meet my now fiance at the end of that month, the old boyfriend nearly a year gone.

The next found the two of us in New Orleans.  And this year, I'm making my recently departed mother's favorite family recipe. The memories of her will rise and mingle from a simmering pot of soupy, stewed chicken, heavily curried and spiced and served over rice topped with condiments ranging from red-skinned salty peanuts to chopped celery to sprinkles of grated coconut. My fiance will be there along with my daughter. My china and silver set out for us.

This post originally ran in 2009. I sat down at the computer to write up what I am doing Easter 2010, which reminded me to go back and repost this piece. This Easter I've been packing because I'm getting married again this summer. Hope everyone enjoyed their weekend.