My sister and I reminisced about our mom and how into Easter she got. Always a big, crackling, cello-covered basket placed at the foot of our beds while we slept. Always filled to the brim with really, really good toys and treats.

A favorite of mine was the last Easter we spent in Phoenix. It was just her and me — dad had moved away and the future was a big question mark. I was 12 and not very happy, and the only kid in the house (my last sibling had left for college 4 years before). I’m sure mom was about as miserable as me. We were not getting along, but we set it all aside during Easter time. We both loved the weather in Arizona that time of year — the desert in riotous bloom, the air sweet and clear.

That year’s basket was outrageously great. I remember distinctly that there were two (two!) Archie comic book digests, which RULED, plain and simple. Also there were two bottles of nail polish — one purple, one pink. I took great pleasure in alternating the colors on my fingers.

I’m sure there was much more in the basket, but those items were the standouts. Thinking about those baskets make me feel thrilled to this day. Thanks, mom!