Today, I'm going to share a slice of my life that ties in with Easter.
Back in the early 1950s, when I was a young fellow (somewhere between four and five years old) I discovered that I had two sisters!
They lived with my grandparents in Florida for a while, and then they all moved to California, where I lived with my parents and younger brother.
Why it was that way, is another story in itself. I'm going to stay focused on Easter right now.
My parents weren't religious, and I never attended church. I didn't know anything about Easter...or God.
Interestingly enough, it was around Easter when I first met my two sisters.
I remember how nice they were to me, and that we seemed to hit it off instantly. But my memories of this first meeting are kinda fuzzy, like a newborn chick.
I remember they wore pretty dresses and my brother and I wore ties with long-sleeved white shirts, and dark trousers.
One of the things about Easter is it's about new beginnings - rebirth if you will. For me, it was the beginning of a new life with sisters.
Shortly after that first gathering (maybe a year), my grandmother died of a heart attack while pruning her beloved roses.
That's when my sisters moved in with us. The rest, as they say, is history.
Time for me to walk on down the road...