I remember Easter....
Waking up early to find where all of the eggs were hidden, only to see my dad walking around in his underwear, hiding the eggs.
The year there was nail polish in my Easter basket. I felt so grown up, even though I was only 8.
Getting dressed for church, my sister and I in matching dresses, my little clutch purse full of raisins to keep me quiet during the service.
My aunt's Italian easter bread with colorful eggs tucked inside its braid.
The year I found out there wasn't an Easter bunny, but my mom reassured me that I would always have an Easter basket for as long as I lived with her.
I remember Easter.