I picked up the phone and your voice sounded excited. I would be seeing you this Sunday and we would have another "talk" about where we were. You asked if I would mind terribly if you went to Florida with JDawg and the boys while they were doing some music stuff there. I emphatically agreed that you should go and you should spend time with the guys. I felt I was doing the right thing and maybe they could knock some sense into you. We never really celebrated Easter besides doing lunches and dinner with family. There was that one time we were in California and my brother's in-laws had an Easter egg hunt that left me with $15. BEST HUNT EVER!

I also recall the one time, sitting in your parent's dining room before we got engaged. Your grandmother had been living with your parents for a short while and although I'm usually charmed by old Southern women, your grandmother lacked the charm that came with the title. She always had something to say about something. She was nice enough, but had a bit of a bite with certain subjects. That one Easter, for some reason or another, after dating you for almost seven years, your grandmother decided to tell me that she had not realized I was foreign. I reassured her my bloodline was quite a myriad of things and she looked flabbergasted. "Well, you do you know what Easter is don't you, do you people celebrate that?" she inquired. I looked her straight in the eye and said, "Mrs. D, you realize I was born Roman Catholic, we invented Easter." It was not really a shock to hear her ask this, your grandmother was no stranger to the words, "colored" and "you people" statements, but alas it is a lost generation I tolerate. Although, I was offended by her attitude and decided I would awkwardly leave. You left with me without any reprimanding, but when you got in the car you were as pissed as I was. The next day your grandmother pointed out her inappropriate statement and apologized if she made me feel bad. Granted your parents put her up to it, but I was accepted graciously.

When I was five years old, I had started Catechism. That first year, I attended the church Easter Egg hunt. There would be a very large golden egg to find and I was truly new to any kind of wins in my life at this point. I remember it was held in the park next to the Kindergarten I attended, and the trees were so big there. I remember the yellow dress I wore that mom had more than likely made me for the occasion, white tights and black patent Mary Jane's to highlight. I blame my mother for my fashionista ways. As I collected the plastic colored ovum, I rounded the biggest tree. There leaning at the base of the trunk in a patch up grass, laid the big golden egg! My little hands fumbled as I tried to put it in my basket, mom there to help. I was so happy that day, I was happier to realize it was all chocolate later.

You missing holidays at this point had become a common occurrence. In the past few months, Thanksgiving was a shit show, Christmas was uncomfortable, you drove back to New York New Year's Eve, you were absent for my birthday, Valentine's Day, St. Patrick's Day and here I was getting a call about you going to Florida on Easter. No matter, I was honestly fed up with you and happy you were going.

When you returned back to New York from your trip, I asked if you enjoyed yourself. Your response was a bit opaque and it sounded as though you did not do anything, but sit by a pool. No word about the show, no word about what you experienced, and to be quite frank, I didn't care that you weren't sharing. I had even asked you who was in attendance and you were quite vague with even that answer. Usually when you were this nondescript it just meant you didn't really have a great time. I was dealing with my own stuff and it was easy to just ignore your lack of details. Little did I know that in a little less than 3 weeks, you wouldn't be able to speak a word about anything.

When you had the accident, people wanted to band together to help you. In an effort to help you, a Facebook group was established. People shared words of encouragement, stories of inspiration and photos. I posted some myself of us and our adventures. And then I saw a photo that H posted. There you were, on a boat, with her, in Florida. Mystery solved.

Three years ago today, Easter Sunday, a blond haired, blue eyed little girl of two years old entered my life. My boyfriend of four months had decided we would continue on this unpredictable path, but it was time that I would meet the other girl in his life. It took me a long time to be reborn after all had happened. Every Easter now, I'm given the anniversary of this child who brings warmth and laughter to my life. I never thought I would have such a thing in my life. I damned you for a long time that you didn't want to walk the baby trail with me. I actually had no idea how much you feared Little Dakota or Little William, those names will forever be lost. And not to sound completely without metaphor here, now my basket is just about empty.

In 26 days, it will be 8th anniversary of your accident. I can't believe the time that has gone by. It has been about six months since I've seen you. It brings me sadness, but also confusion. I'm always left in the dark these days and I used to feel like I could die in those moments, but now, it just makes me sad that efforts are lost, but I can't help but wonder the bigger meaning. You always had a tendency to have my best interest. You also protected me from a lot of things while we were together and probably a lot afterwards. I think of how far you've come since that first year and it brightens my spirit because you've worked so hard and make no mistake, I'm very proud of you and your efforts.

I had carefully put the candies in each colored egg. I also had a special fairy made for her and rested it in the basket with the other toys we had gotten her. Her little hat rested right above her eyes and her sunglasses hid her clear blue eyes. She was his daughter alright. We stopped the truck and while he took the time to get out, I ran down to the park to hide all the eggs. As I watched her discover all of her little prizes and squeal with delight at each find, I follow her around slowly, making sure she's comfortable with me around. I'm back in the park, back to that pretty yellow dress mom made me, running in the park gleefully with my big golden egg ---triumphant and happy.