a heart like mine.

Lent ended today. Forty days and forty nights. I am proud to say I made it out not only alive, but stronger in many senses. The ending of Lent brings Easter. (Thanks, tips.) Every 'Easter Saturday' my dad's sister hosts an Easter party up in the hills of Mission. Every year, without fail, for the past 12 years; it rains. Not only does it rain, it pours. Somehow, this doesn't stop the throngs of (now late) elementary schooled children from ravaging the forest for any sign of plastic that could possibly hold a chocolate or two. Nor does it stop my 81-year-old Grandmother from rising at the crack of dawn to plant 3,000 eggs around the property. (Mind you, this is the same woman that shot and skinned her own moose last winter while hunting in the back bush of Quesnel.)
This year, however, was different. As I woke up yesterday I remember thinking, Why is it so bright...its the day of the Easter Party...or is it? AM I LATE FOR WORK IS IT MONDAY? Nope. Just...sunny?
Most years, a scraggle of relatives make their way from the outskirts of the Fraser Valley, mostly a fairly consistent crew. This year, I'd like to think both the Grace of Easter and the beautiful weather brought my long-lost cousins over from the island. For the first time in almost seven years myself, my two brothers, and my cousins Mark, Bea and Anne were together in one place with our parents. The last time we were all together was for my Grandma's 75th birthday; I was 15 and four of my younger cousins hadn't even been born yet. (It was actually kind of funny to see us all together, we're very much alike considering how far away we've grown up from eachother. Same sunglasses? Same pants? Mannerisms? Shoes? Facial expressions? Check.)
I would love to have a family reunion. The two older 'island cousins' haven't even met my three young cousins from Quesnel yet - and the oldest is 6. Very strange to me.
Turns out the family is moving to Vancouver at the end of August. (Actually, turns out half of them have lived here for quite a while - shows how much we really talk, sad.) I'm looking forward to being able to spend time with them. I've always been jealous of my friends that have cousins they are close to in the same age range. Fun fact: my mother and my aunt were friends before they married my dad and uncle. Apparently they were quite the pair. I'll be interested to see what kind of trouble my cousin Anne and I can cook up when she makes the big old move to the mainland. Part 2. Awh yeah.



This is one of the cousin shots we grabbed at the end of the afternoon:
(I'm looking forward to seeing the pictures with our parents and Granma)
clockwise from top left: Bea, Patrick, Truman, Mark, Anne and me

Also, these are my three 'baby' cousins from Quesnel:
left to right: Nicole, Brooke and Amber

While I'm at it, this is my dog and my cat. Nomnomnomnom

I love them. So much. I realized this weekend that time can't change family. I had a beautiful time. Whomp whomp.