Memoir

The Easter Bunny

Years ago, my grandparents lived in Florida. Although currently they live in Texas, I grew up admiring their old house. It was not a large house by any means, but I loved it because it belonged to them. They lived right on the water. Going to their house, I looked forward to the smell of salt water and the beauty of the glistening water. The water surrounded their house on one side making it a small passage to the Atlantic ocean that I swam in while getting a bad sunburn. My grandma has always been afraid of the water, but I never knew why.

Although I already knew that she would say no, I would ask,

“Gramma? Are you gonna come with us?”

“Oh no sweetie,” she replied, and go on about her day.

***

We arrived to Florida on April 10th, the day before Easter. Mom and Dad started to unload the car while my grandparents walked down the endless flight of stairs. I couldn’t wait for them to get down, so I ran up to hug them. My sister, Madison, followed behind. After all of our suitcases were out of our minivan, we walked inside to the cool air.

After the hike up the stairs, we walked into their small, two bedroom house. They always had the television on. It usually played the weather channel. My grandpa, Madison, and I had a recurring joke where we would yell out,

“No more weather channel!” And he would change the channel to Disney.  

My parents went into one of the two bedrooms to rest. Meanwhile, Madison and I dozed off on the couch with the sound of,

“I’m Raven from ‘That’s so Raven’ and you’re watching Disney Channel,” lulling us to sleep in the background.

***

Not even a day had passed since we arrived, and my grandpa would take us on the boat to go fishing. My mom rarely went with us. I imagined her and my grandma sitting together, sipping coffee and talking about how pretty the ocean was when it sparkled.

Meanwhile, we would sit in the sun and wait for a bite; we would eat my grandpa’s stash of pretzels. Occasionally, we would go back with the great story of catching a 4-inch fish, but most often, we would not. As we brought the boat into the dock behind their house, I lept out to swim. What I hadn’t realized then was that there were hundreds of jellyfish just feet below me.

When we walked inside the house, it smelt of ham for tomorrow. The glorious smell about to be served animated my hunger. I could no longer stand it.

“Mom? Can we eat it now?” I said in a low whisper.

“Not yet, it’s for tomorrow,” she responded. Her answer was disappointing, but not surprising.

***

Most nights before Easter I would be able to fall asleep very quickly, but tonight was different. It was my first Easter in Florida, and I could not contain my excitement. I laid in my sleeping bag; my eyes wandered the room. Next to the living room was a door to the porch. Madison and I had to sleep on the floor because their house could not give each of us a room. My sister fell asleep quickly, but I just couldn’t. I kept thinking I saw the Easter Bunny right outside the porch window. My eyes were practically glued to the door, making sure if the Easter Bunny stood there, I would meet him for sure. Of course, I fell asleep half an hour later and woke up early in the morning.

***

        As I sat up in the sleeping bag, I couldn’t believe what I saw: a mosaic of colored eggs scattered about the room. I rolled onto my other side and shook Madison as hard as I could.

“Look! Look! Get up!” I yelled into her ear. She groaned and opened her eyes. As she sat up, she looked around and smiled. Her reaction was inferior compared to mine, but I was glad she still liked it.

        Our grandparents were already awake, so we ran to wake up our parents. They took a while to get up and having to wait was pure pain. I tried to scope out the different Easter eggs, until my parents finally woke up and entered the room.

“Go!” My dad immediately shouted, and off I ran to go collect as many eggs as possible. I grabbed heavy eggs and ones that I hoped had Peeps in it. They were my favorite. The squish of marshmallow as you bite into it. It was glorious. I never wanted this moment to change.

At the end of the Easter egg hunt, we counted our eggs. Madison had collected more than me, and she offered to share. I took them greedily without a second thought. This Easter was better than I could imagine.

***

Little did I know that it was the last time I would spent Easter in their magical house. The next time we went to visit my grandparents for Easter, three years later, my parents were divorced, my dad remarried, and my grandparents moved to Texas. Since then, I have learned to live in the moment because it is difficult to know when the next big change will occur.

New People Everywhere

The first time of many that I moved is the most vivid. Little did I know that it would change my life completely. In 2005, we left our comfortable home in Pinckney, Michigan to a ranch in the small city of Danville, Virginia. I was nervous to see my new public school, but I was more nervous to meet the new people. We left Michigan when I was five, and I began first grade in the fall. I had never changed schools before, or even known that there was a place called, "Virginia." Not knowing the true voice that Virginians' had, my friends and I mocked their southern accent,

"Hey y'all! Want some chicken?" We laughed.

***

When it was time to move, I wasn’t ready to leave. It took me until then to realize how much I loved my room, my house, everything. I sat on my room floor hoping my stubbornness would stop us from leaving. It did not change anything. We strapped in for a long car ride.

***

We raced to get to my brand new school’s open house. It was the same day we moved, which made me even more nervous. I hopped out of the car and clutched tightly to my mother’s hand.

“Mom? I’m scared.” I said, fearing what lay beyond those double doors.

“Don’t be afraid. They’re nice,” she said, trying to calm me. It was no use. I was nervous no matter what. We walked into the school, every muscle was tense, every bone was shaking. There it was. My classroom. As we entered, a nice lady greeted me: my teacher. Her name was Mrs. Ovack. She was warm and had kind eyes. She told me she was happy that I was coming. I was not as thrilled. I liked my kind eyed teacher in Michigan. I wanted to go back.

***

Pulling into the driveway for the first time was not as magical as I was hoping. I jumped out anyway and ran inside.

“Where is my room?” I thought. I looked everywhere. I began downstairs and saw four huge rooms. I hoped my room was not downstairs; it was too cold, and it smelt like bugs. The stench was weak, but it smelled of the insect exhibit in the zoo. I rushed back up the stairs and ran down a long hallway, passing all of the movers. In one of the rooms I saw a mattress on the ground and my dresser on the side wall. I was ecstatic. I finally found my new room.

I jumped on the bed, listening to the crackle of the plastic protecting it. The workers walked past and smiled. My dad strolled into the room.

“I’m glad you like it!” He exclaimed. It was not the same as my old room. It was smaller and all the walls were bare. I looked through the boxes that were already in my room and pulled out a pink, flowered Polly Pocket poster. I put it right above my bed. Now, my room was practically complete.

***

Few weeks passed, and school was about to begin. I had everything ready: my pink backpack, Ticonderoga pencils, block erasers, and puppy notebooks. It had rained the night before, and it was still fairly cold outside. I put on my “first day of school” outfit and headed to the kitchen for breakfast.

“Hi, honey! What do you want to eat?” My mom questioned me.

“Pancakes!” I yelled with much glee.

My sister, Madison, drooped as she walked into the kitchen shortly after I arrived. Madison switched schools once before, and she was dreading going to another. We scarfed down the pancakes and ran out into the windy world. My brushed hair waved in the air creating small knots. We walked to the front of our yard: our bus stop. We shivered there for ten minutes, until we gave up on catching the bus. Instead, we dashed to the garage and rode in the car. We had been driving for thirty seconds before we were stopped by a school bus. Our school bus.  Madison and I kissed our dad goodbye and ran to get on the bus. The school bus driver was nothing liked I imagined. He was old, plump, and friendly. He reminded me of Santa Claus.

***

I walked down the hall at school. It seemed longer than before, and I could not remember where to go. I asked a woman standing in the middle of the hallway where I should go. She pointed me to the classroom, and I made it in time. Standing in the doorway, Mrs. Ovack asked,

“Where would you like to sit?” I was scared. I chose a desk next to the one with the name Rosie on it. When Rosie finally arrived, I realized her name was not actually Rosie, but Rusty, and that “she” was a he. Rusty seemed to be nice, but I soon came to realize that he was not as interested in learning as much as poking holes in his erasers.

A girl sat in front of me named Abigail. She wore the prettiest earrings: blue and dangling. I poked her on the shoulder and asked,

“Do you want to be friends?”

“Sure,” she replied. I was relieved. I had a friend.

***

When the bell finally rang for the end of the day, I jumped out of my seat and lined up at the door to leave the classroom.  Mrs. Ovack lead us to buses, and I looked for my sister. We sat together and talked about our day.

The bus screeched to a stop at our front yard. I hurried to get out and into my parents arms.

“How was school?” My mom asked. I took a long time telling her all about my new friend.

***

After my first day of grade school, I realized that being a little nervous can be a good thing. I became happier when I found out that everyone was kind, and that the strangers I met were not as bad as I imagined. The kindness of strangers helped open my eyes to new experiences.