Hauling Trash on Easter. A Note From Jan.

Easter Sunday! Excited to get to church so left earlier than usual. After shutting the car door, I couldn’t believe the stench.   My usually nice smelling Prius reeked like a garbage truck. As I raced down the highway, berating myself for just cleaning the outside and not the inside of the car, I glanced in the rear view mirror and noticed all the bags of trash piled high in the back of my small hatchback.   Trash I’d dumped in there yesterday! I’d loaded up bags of recycling and one big bag of garbage, intending to deposit them in our garage when I returned from some errands.  Well, I remembered the errands but forgot the great drop-off, and so today, on Easter morning, I tooled down the highway hauling trash.

While I felt a measure of relief that the stench didn’t come from the return of the Thanksgiving raccoon who’d somehow picked the lock and ransacked the car, I didn’t like the thought of showing up at church with the car smelling like a garbage truck.  I’ve some pride left, even after visits to spas in California and trips to the “maul” to buy a swimsuit.

Well, I did what comes naturally to me, especially when I’m stressed. I laughed, then cried. Both come easily. I hit on an obvious analogy about me and the car. Here I was on Easter Sunday…lookin’ good on the outside but haulin’ trash on the inside. Enough to make me cry.  Plus I missed Jud. I’m finding grief gets swirled into lots of everyday happenings.   Grief and garbage. Who’d a thought!

Did a lot of missing Jud yesterday while I baked and cooked for today’s Easter dinner.  Jud usually boiled and peeled the eggs.  I did the “deviled” part.  (No comments, please.)   I baked; Jud scrubbed the pans.  I made messes; he vacuumed. We were a team.   When I fell into bed last night, I’d done my best to do the work of two.   Exhausting and not nearly as much fun.

Tonight, family’s gone home. Kitchen’s almost back to normal and quiet’s settled in. I find myself thinking about Jesus and what He did for the likes of me and the rest of us trash haulers. Wondering about Jud and what he’s experiencing on his first Easter away from us. Counting on him and saints who’ve gone ahead to pray for me and our family and for friends and this world, as we journey on towards or away from Jesus. To pray for us, especially, when we choose to keep on hauling that to which we’ve become accustomed, stench and all.

Just looked across the counter from where I’m writing and spotted a blue egg and a few jelly beans, remnants of an Easter egg hunt earlier today with grandchildren and four Wood-Reid children.  I’ll do another sweep around the house and dump the findings in the trash.  There’ll always be garbage to deal with. Around and inside me.   But Easter’s true and that gives me hope. Hope I need more than jelly beans, even the black ones.