It’s weird to think my best Easter was spent in prison.What’s even weirder is that I had no idea. I can’t remember the logistics of it but it was a large event for minimum risk prisoners to spend Easter with their children, grandchildren, ect. I think they brought us in through some magical tunnel so that the sight of our loved ones, and strangers behind cold bars, didn’t frighten us. Now it obviously wasn’t some magic tunnel but I had NO CLUE that is was a prison until a couple of years ago.
Yeah, apparently my grandma was a notorious drug dealer, and finally got caught. I thought she was the sweetest woman who always had the best treats; funny how things work out like that. These criminals behind bars aren’t all bad people; they just do some not so good things. I don’t think less of her for her crimes, I actually think it was badass but I’m glad I didn’t know where I was.
We were taken to a large field with a basketball court in the middle. I remember nothing else but a couple of worn wooden benches. The sparseness struck me even then, I thought it was a crappy place to have an Easter hunt but hey, at least I was on one. I could see a couple of the elderly or lazy guardians lounging on the benches, the slightly sunny sky giving them this hazy glow.
I glanced over at the my grandma, waiting for the cue to hunt. I was a competitive brat even then and I would find the best chocolates. Sadly, I was right and this was a crappy place to have an Easter egg hunt. You can only hide so many eggs in tall grass or under a bench. Regardless. I won. Ha.
Easter wasn’t over yet, now was the time to potato sack race, egg race and three legged race. We gathered on the cracked cement that was supposed to be a basketball court and suited up. My grandma told me to go easy on them, but I scoffed in her face and bolted past the short legged, unstable twits. I won all three races, and I suppose some credit is due to my three legged partner for not being a complete nincompoop.
After the utter humiliation of all the small children, and the refreshments had been consumed, we left without my grandma, and I never wondered why. I was busy reflecting on my day of successes. I don’t normally get birthdays or Easters with family so I got to show off in front of them. Make them proud. One last time.
When I finally found out that I had been to a prison unbeknownst to me and the reason why, my jaw dropped, I hope you’ll excuse the cliché but that is how it felt. My sweet, innocent, baker of a grandmother was even more badass than me and I made her proud.
How could that not be the best Easter ever?