It’s a beautiful Easter Sunday Morning here in our small town. I’m currently enjoying a cup of coffee on my front porch, replaying the mornings events in my head.

Easter has always been one of my favorite Holidays since childhood. I have many fond memories from trying to catch the Easter bunny in action to remembering one of my favorite gifts ever received in my basket. A paper doll book.

Things have changed a lot since I was five. I have a deep appreciation for my parents now, especially looking back now being a parent myself (to five great kids). They were always ahead of the Holiday Game.

I’m still not convinced that my parents weren’t given some kind of super stealth ninja powers that allowed them to carry out all of the many holiday surprises without breaking a sweat or ever getting busted by my siblings and I.

I…

The Swains lined the third pew from the front on the right side of the church.  Daddy insisted on it.  I might be a better person today if I’d gotten to sit on the back pew and write notes and giggle with my friends.  I had a lot of time over the years to study those in front of me, the only thing that kept me from going bonkers during the long service.

Brother Deck, an ancient deacon sat in the middle of the front pew, wearing ancient suits, heavy black, wool in winter and gray gabardine in summer.  The gabardine had been pressed so much it was thin and shiny.  Should it be hot enough for him to remove his jacket, we were treated to a view of a gray, gabardine wedgie, which somehow, he never seemed to notice, though I was always puzzled at how he could tolerate…