Every Easter, my family used to travel to my great uncle's place in Massachusetts. Despite not living far, I only saw them once a year.
I remember being a child, I once lost a toy in their back yard. I was maybe four or five years old.
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I remember right where I left it---like parents often prompt---and for the next few years, I always went back to see if maybe it was there.
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Eventually, I gave up. But Easter was still one of my favorite holidays. Great Polish cooking, hanging out with my cousins, lots of dessert.
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I'm not religious, but I still miss doing that every year. It was a family event, and one that I always looked forward to.
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If nothing else, a phone call would have been nice.
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Like that toy from 30 years ago, some things are resigned only to memory.
End of conversation
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