Will Some Bunny Love Me?

1962 Ceramic Easter Basket Made By My Paternal Grandfather

I am both wanted and loved. This is not the sad story of a single senior longing for a match on DateMyAge.com. It's the tale of my treasured Easter Bunny Basket, wondering if some 'bunny' will love it at the time of my passing.

Bunny Basket's worth is purely sentimental, with little to no monetary value. It was

My paternal grandparents – CA on the far right,

hand-painted by my grandfather, affectionately called "CA," at a local studio. In the 1960s and 70s, most towns had a ceramic shop, be it a brick-and-mortar operation or someone's in-home enterprise. CA was a hard-working, blue-collar bricklayer, but the craftsman in him found great pleasure in painting greenware. In an article entitled, "Remembering Hobby Ceramics", Dan Muhlman states, ‘At one time it was, some claimed, the biggest hobby in America,’

Given to me at age 5 and signed "Chick 62", my little Bunny Basket has been an Easter tradition for 63 years. It has survived several moves with no chips or cracks. For decades, Easter morning began with a sibling stampede to the living room coffee table that was adorned with everyone's ceramic baskets. When the fragile lids were removed, it would reveal an overflow of candy eggs, including Brach's small chocolates wrapped in shiny foil, jelly bird eggs, and malted Robin eggs.

In life, I'm doubly blessed. My maternal grandmother also made me a ceramic Easter Basket. How both have survived unchipped is a miracle, but they are one of my best memories.

One day, my son will be saddled with the distribution of all my property. He has his own life and beautiful wife, and they have decorating preferences. I maintain this philosophy –

Don't decorate your home in someone else's memories!

My son does not have to love my little bunny and chick-a-dee baskets, but I hope someone will.... if he drops them at ThriftWorld in Omaha, my prayer is whoever finds them will find enormous delight and the energy of 63 years of joy!

Key Notes:

• In 1962, eggs were 54 cents a dozen.

• With the elimination of the Department of Education, I hope the next generation understands that bunnies are mammals (not birds) and do not lay eggs.

• Going down the rabbit hole or falling down the rabbit hole is a metaphor for something that transports someone into a wonderfully (or troublingly) surreal state or situation. The distribution of end-of-life property can be either wonderful or troubling.

• My friend Vanessa is taking the chick-a-dee basket. It's her style!