Untraditional Easter

My mom has lived in my town just about as long as I have.  And on Saturday, we helped her move sixty miles north of here.

She and I picked up a U-Haul truck Saturday morning at 9:30.  I had to drive it to her house.  The things you have to do when you are a grown-up and have no excuses.  I was scared to drive that 17-foot truck but I managed not to run over any small children or mailboxes.

With the help of our neighbors (who I am so deeply indebted to now), we loaded up her furniture and boxes.  (My 18-year old sons helped, as did our neighbor’s teenage son.)  When the truck was crammed full, we resorted to loading up the back of my van and my mom’s car.  The neighbor offered to let us pack his pickup truck as well and then volunteered to drive the U-Haul through Seattle.  (His son drove the pickup.)

The neighbor went so far above and beyond the call of duty, I can hardly believe it.  I had originally asked him just to help load furniture into the truck but he took charge and loaded the whole truck and then drove it to Seattle and helped unload the whole thing.

We finally arrived at my mom’s new apartment at 2:30 p.m.  It was 7:30 p.m. by the time I finally  left after helping sort things and unpack things and try make sense of things.  Moving is hard!  (Even with help.  My sister’s family and my brother were there to help unload and unpack.)

Sunday morning–Easter!–I took my kids to Qwest Field where our church, Mars Hill, held a gigantic church service with 17,500 people in attendance.  It started at 9:30 a.m.

I thought I gave myself enough time to get there . . . but I underestimated traffic, specifically the traffic clogging the perimeter of Safeco Field.  Just when I reached the designated parking garage, a police officer waved me past it . . . and I had to circle around again.

The second time, I decided to take the easy way out and pulled into a paid parking garage.  However, due to poor planning on my part, I had no cash in my purse and the garage only took cash or checks.  (I haven’t carried around a checkbook in years.)  The attendant (God bless her) told me she’d temporarily park my car and let me walk across the street to get cash from an ATM.  So that’s what I did.

By the time we parked and walked several blocks to the stadium and the many ramps up to the 300 Level, we were twenty minutes late, but just in time for the sermon.

It was amazing to see so many people in that stadium.  Most amazing to me was how many babies I saw around me.  Those moms are better people than me for I never would have attempted that entire ordeal with a little baby.  My kids were awesome and well-behaved.

When the service ended, we made our way to Safeco Field where we had a completely untraditional Easter lunch from the various food stands.  The boys all had cheesesteak sandwiches and garlic fries, Grace had a cheeseburger and I had Ivar’s fish.

Our seats were five rows from the top of Safeco Field but still had a beautiful view.  The kids seemed to have fun . . . Grace especially liked the souvenir shops.  Of course.  We left after the sixth inning.

Driving home through the rain, I was so exhausted.  I was thinking about when I’d be able to drive back through Seattle to my mom’s new place so I can help her finish unpacking and organizing.

And then I noticed a sign on the freeway.

“Did I miss my exit?”

And I did.  I have no recollection of a good ten miles of freeway . . . and I missed my exit completely.

When I arrived home at 4:30 p.m., I put on my pajamas and stayed in bed watching television and napping until I had to work at 9 p.m.

So . . . no Easter egg hunts, so egg-dye, no Easter baskets . . . and no ham.

But at least I managed to distribute a chocolate bunny to each of my kids.

Next year, we’ll be back to normal.  I hope.  (Does “normal” still exist?)