My Easter weekend was very un-Eastery, truth be told. I did not go to church, nor did the Easter Bunny show up with baskets laden with milk chocolate that Claire can’t eat anyway. There was no big family gathering and there was no lamb dinner with friends.


My weekend rocked in different ways, though, because it was a time of empowerment for me. A time when I thought, hey I was diagnosed with the freakiest disease just 6 months ago and here I am alive, well, vibrant, and full of badass.

What am I talking about?

Well, I ran my first race this weekend. I ran a 5K while pushing Claire in a jogging stroller, which is no easy feat, mind you, considering that she’s 20 pounds and the stroller is probably about the same. It was freezing (40 degrees) that morning and I inadequately dressed Claire so she cried the last mile because her hands were so cold (she wouldn’t keep them under the blanket!), but I ran it. The whole 3.1 miles of it. And I did it in 33 minutes which isn’t too shabby if you ask me (I haven’t run but 3 or 4 times since last Fall and nothing more than a mile and a half). As I was running I thought, cancer? you can kiss my ass because here I am, running, alive, happy, and people are cheering for me to boot! It was empowering to say the least and it definitely won’t be my last race.

That night I did what I have been talking about doing for years. I got inked. Gasp! I have been thinking, nay agonizing, for months about what to get that would symbolize something important to me and that would still mean something to me in a decade or two. I finally decided on a bird in flight which would represent freedom and moving beyond the past: both the past of religious fundamentalism and the past of the Big C. I saw a girl’s bird tat the night of the Gala a few weekends ago and it made me excited. Getting cancer gave me the courage and the validation to go ahead with it. So, off I went to a local tattoo parlor that two of my friends have gone to and recommended. Initially I was turned away because the artist was busy (they don’t do appointments on the weekends – I tried), but I called him and arranged to come back at 8:00 instead. I went. I did. I love. It wasn’t THAT painful, though it definitely hurt. After going through labor pains, though, it was a walk in the park.

So, here she is. My symbol of freedom from the past. I’ve been granted grace sufficient to make it through the rough patches of my life and this will always be a reminder of that for me.




On Easter Sunday, Huz’s uncle from North Carolina visited. We went out for brunch (I had a rhubarb mimosa and some lovely crepes with chicken and ham in a bechemel sauce and Claire ate almost an entire homemade apple sausage link!). Then we hung out at home, watched Claire play, hung out on the sunny patio while she napped, then I shared some freshly made Amaretto Bread Pudding with the boys before Uncle Tracy left for the airport.

Happy Easter to you and yours!


The Winters Family (with Wella)


The Winters Family (without Wella)