Easter Egg hunts in my family are quite the tradition. When the extended family tells stories of getting together, at least a handful of them will involve mishaps and memories of egg hunts. As my girls’ generation grew into adulthood, my dad passed away, and COVID hit, the tradition changed. And that’s okay. I didn’t grow up with those same traditions. Our families adjust with each generation as we grow, move, and adjust. Some changes are more difficult than others, but we survive.

I’ve done my best to keep hints of the tradition while making some adjustments, knowing it’s not going to be the same. We’ll make some changes because we’re in a different place, but we’ll have some threads that keep us connected.

Some of us went on vacation over a year ago, including all the littles in the next generation. It was in October, so I planned some fall-themed fun. We painted wooden pumpkins we could use for decorations in the coming years as a reminder of our time together. We had fall-ish stickers and window clings. The kids had coordinating fall pajamas. And I planned a pumpkin hunt. It was a nod to our Easter egg hunt legacy but with pumpkins that held goodies. 

I don’t know how many hundreds of eggs my mom has stuffed through the years. I let her have the honor of stuffing the pumpkins as well. Stickers, bracelets, mini slinkies, snacks, and more. I asked her to keep count, so we could have a specific amount for each kid. She tossed them in a box as she closed them and was pretty sure she miscounted, shorting one. I wasn’t about to dump them all and count them again. I was pretty sure the kids weren’t going to get that particular about their pumpkins. At their ages, they get too excited about the process to compare too much. 

We didn’t hunt until about halfway into our week together. It was a gorgeous day, and we were going to cook over the fire in the backyard, which had plenty of space to run and to scatter lots of pumpkins. My mom stood on the balcony to overlook the happenings. There were enough adults so each kid had a buddy to keep track of their pumpkins as they collected along their trail. Then they sat with their family and opened all the pumpkins to discover their prizes before catching their grand prize—one of those washcloths that don’t look like a washcloth until you add water—which my mom tossed to each of them from the balcony.

We wrapped up the night with S’mores before…I don’t even remember what came next.

I doubt the kids were old enough to remember much of the trip, but it’s still part of them. And it’s related to a family tradition. It was something similar to the Easter egg hunt but in a new season, a new place. We don’t have to keep things the same. We don’t have to abandon everything in the past. We have passed some things on to the next generation, but we’ve also welcomed a new generation. A little different, a little the same. And a whole lot of joy.

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