I was struck this Easter morning by an email my Mom sent me that opened the floodgates to lost memories like an uncontrollable river hurtling over everything in it's path. Who knew that Easter eggs could contain such precious jewels? She reminded me of the beautiful Easter dresses my Grandma would buy for me, the bunnies and chicks my Dad raised, the psychedelic Easter eggs we tie-dyed when I was going through my Grateful Dead stage, the Lithuanian eggs we decorated with wax when she first met Joe my Stepfather, the beautiful brunches, neighborhood egg hunts, and fun we had with family and friends.
Appropriately, the French word for a memory is 'souvenir'. A souvenir to me, is like a charm you keep around forever and take out every so often to polish and reflect upon. They don't vanish the way memories do.
Wishing you many souvenir's to put in your basket on this Easter morning!