As with other family fun days like Halloween and Christmas, Easter was a sacred family time for dad.
I remember being about four years old and watching dad hand-make easter baskets out of coloured construction paper. He was carefully cutting it into strips and then weaving it and shaping it into baskets, secured with staples and tape. It seemed like everyone else had gone to bed but dad laboured away for hours, and allowed me to stay up late and "help."
Each easter I remember dad was the 'bunny' and would hide our eggs around the house. As we often didn't have money when I was smaller, it was often one chocolate treasure hidden with our name tags on it. He'd always try and one-up his hiding spots, and it was always a thrill trying to find our chocolate. Sometimes they'd be in really odd-ball locations and he'd giggle watching us search.
The day before easter dad would prepare, and I understand this was a Beaton tradition. He'd bake bread, make eggs or baskets or whatever needed to be made. As a small child, on easter mornings depending on where we lived, dad would wake us up early and go for a sun rising church ceremony on a hillside or at the local church. We'd then hunt for chocolate. Later in our childhoods we'd relax at home, and start with a hunt and then have a big Beaton breakfast. Sometimes dad would go to church and make it optional for those of us who were interested.
Waking us up in the morning Dad was always cheerful and would say "HE IS RISEN!" with a big smile. We'd shyly respond "he has risen" and sometimes he would say it again with even more gusto to see if he could get us excited.
This easter I was appreciating dad again, as I remembered watching him work hard to make sure our easters were memorable.
-jb