Ukrainian eggs around my Grandma’s table

I used to make Ukrainian eggs with my grandma every year at Easter. We would gather round the kitchen table, and she would go up to attic where she stored all the intricate tools, waxes, candles, and dyes that we used to make our beautiful creations.  Our stylus tools in hand, we would add beeswax to the cup of our tools, let the wax melt over a candle flame,  and then begin to decorate each egg with care. We created intricate patterns and designs that wouldn’t be revealed for many hours. Draw…dip in yellow. Draw…dip in orange. Draw…dip in red. Draw…dip in green. You get the point. Finally, after hours had passed and we’d dipped into the final black dye making our creations complete, we would hold the egg next to the candle flame until the all wax melted away, and then tenderly we would wipe all the wax off with a paper towel. We were left with a small masterpiece that would last a lifetime if cared for properly, but more importantly I was left with wonderful memories of the day I had spent with my grandma. Now the time has passed, and so has my grandma. But, I have wonderful Ukrainian eggs adorning my house at Easter that each reminds me of her in a different way. Each egg holds a different memory of a different year. Some years she would share with me stories of our ancestors in Italy coming to America. Sometimes she would tell me tales of her years studying math at the university. Other times she would share silly stories of my mom, aunts, and uncles mischievous adolescent adventures. She would share Easter recipes, and we would talk about gardening and how to dye lady’s lace flowers different colors. Every once in a while we would spend our time together at her kitchen table in silence. Just enjoying being there together creating something beautiful.  That for me is the most beautiful and poignant memory of all. Just being with her…because I would do anything to just be with her again.