Chapter 10 - The Next Easter
A year passed. Spring arrived again, washing the world in pale sunlight and blooming flowers.
Easter dinner wasn't at my parents' house this time. We hosted it at our place. The backyard was full of noise. Kids were chasing each other through the grass. My brother was telling the same fishing story. Dad was sitting in a lawn chair, his knee fully healed, laughing at a joke Marianne had just made.
There were no designer purses. There were no cream-colored envelopes handed out to buy affection.
Instead, after lunch, Dad stood up on the back patio and clinked his glass with a fork. “I just want to say something,” he announced. The yard went quiet. He looked at me, then at Marianne, and finally, his gaze settled on Ethan and Lily, who were covered in grass stains and holding half-melted chocolate bunnies.
“Family isn't about what's in your bank account,” Dad said, his voice thick with emotion. “It's not about signatures on a piece of paper. It's about who shows up for you. It's about who loves you when things get hard.” He raised his glass. “To Ryan and Marianne. And to my beautiful grandchildren. All of them.”
“To family!” my brother cheered. “To family!” the rest of the yard echoed.
May you like
Ethan grinned, his face smeared with chocolate. He ran over and wrapped his arms around my waist. Lily followed, burying her face in Marianne’s dress. I looked around my backyard, filled with the loud, chaotic, wonderful people who had chosen to stand by us.
Carol thought closing her purse would make us feel small. She didn't realize it would be the exact thing that made our family larger, stronger, and more real than it had ever been before.
