As I frantically shopped for chocolate bunnies and jelly beans this evening after my angel on Earth had eaten a healthy dinner and was settling in for a quiet evening with Daddy, I was remembering the only three Easters we celebrated with our angel in Heaven.

I vividly remember our last, as we were in the ER. But as I recall, at the time it was something very minor, and I remember them bringing him an Easter basket and his gleefully wrapping a purple ribbon around himself like a necktie and giggling. Months later we would receive his fateful cancer diagnosis. But at that time, I think he was suffering a little minor dehydration and we had gone in for a dose of IV fluids and were back home later that evening.

Our first Easter, he was still in NICU and I’m not sure he had even reached a typical weight for a newborn, even at more than two months old. He may have been two or three pounds and I think we were getting ready to make our journey back home after living at the Ronald McDonald House for a month, and were watching our little man grow and praying his little body would continue to develop.

Our second Easter, I have a photo of him with my mom and he’s wearing a little chick onesie, grinning widely as he’s bouncing on her lap. He was only ever fed by g-tube and never enjoyed jelly beans or a chocolate bunny or hunted for eggs, but he looked so adorable in that chickie onesie and bright yellow pants. What a doll he was. What a happy little man. I can see that face. That cheerful, beautiful face. It will always make me smile.

So tonight, I will cram candy into eggs, and place fake grass into baskets, and plan a big surprise from the bunny on Sunday for my angel on Earth.

And I will remember how lucky we are to have two angels this Easter Sunday. One watching from above, and one hunting for hidden eggs.