Journal for Christa—
Yesterday marked the anniversary of Karen’s death. The reflection I’m posting this week was written last Easter—after the dishes were done, people had gone, and I sat alone, pondering what Easter means to me. I think this Easter, I will spend more time reflecting on Jesus—His crucifixion and His resurrection.
I often think of Karen Sue, but I always think of her at Easter. It struck me yesterday as I was vacuuming the stairs, “I think Karen was a ‘Mary’ (at least when it came to Easter); I am a ‘Martha.’” All weekend people had put contemplative comments on facebook, but I had not. I had spent time cleaning this and that and baking brownies and a cherry pie because they’re Kaylee’s favorite. My one moment of contemplation was on the stairs when I decided Karen was a Mary.
Our Easters together started one year when most of my children were away at college. I had a ham in the oven and all the holiday fixings—for the 3 of us. After church I asked Karen what they’d planned for dinner. “Beans and rice,” she replied. “That is pathetic,” I said (We’d been friends a long time). “Bring the beans and rice and come to our house. I made a ham.” And so they did. Then they came and laughed at our table the next couple of Easters, until the Easter they were going to Chicago and we were going to Albuquerque—but Karen went to Heaven instead.
At Easter I always think of Karen. And this Easter I decided Karen was a Mary and I am not. She would plan a simple meal and probably spend her time focused on Christ’s resurrection. Yet, each Easter since her homegoing, her family has continued to come for Easter dinner, and I’m so glad they still want to.
I miss Karen Sue every Easter. I missed her today. I wish in some ways I was more like her. But, I also like baking brownies and cherry pies and making big Easter dinners. And as Karen, I like lots of people and laughter around the table. So now in the quiet of this Easter evening, I have contemplated that because of Christ’s resurrection, bringing the hope that there is much more beyond death, I’ll one day laugh with Karen again.