One Christmas he put on boots, climbed on the roof of the house and stomped the Hell out of the shingles so my brother David and I couldn't sleep at all because Santa was here!
On Easter he didn't hide Easter Baskets ... he left clues for them.
We'd wake up, rush to the Fridge for breakfast and find a note from the Easter Bunny.
We'd have to figure out the strangest things ... "under the pillow on the left side of the smallest room" ... or "There's only one drawer full of panties" ... and we'd rush all over the house and the yard finding more clues ... until finally we found Baskets full of chocolate Bunnies, Marshmallows, colored pencils and plastic grass.
Years later I did the same for Jeremy, Kristen and Chelsea and I delighted in their figuring out the clues just as my Dad did.
Now I get to do it again for Maddie, Laurel and Cassidy who laugh and cackle and rush around our house until they finally discover the joys of Easter.
Sarah is horrible at waiting to give gifts ... and I have Bar Church ... so we started celebrating early.
Ten hidden clues leaves them scratching their heads, screeching in comprehension and running off to find the next instruction.
We delight and it's a much better way to celebrate a holiday and make it memorable.
"Are their going to be clues again this year," the girls asks over the past several days.
They joyfully relish each note until reaching the grand prize.
It reminds me of my own childhood ... my Dad who's dead now ... the kids ... and the joy of children celebrating gifts.
It's a celebratory thing for Sarah and me.
It's not about living in the past but still enjoying parts of it to this day.
And passing on my Dad to our girls ... through the kids ... and lots of other things in between.
We celebrate resurrection on Easter and today my Dad is alive as ever in notes with clues for little girls gushing with joy that we've figured out a way for him to be here.
I hope our children do the same so Dad's celebration of Easter lives on.
Just like Jesus does.
