Sunday . . .
Just another day, or something more?
Hello friend,
I’ve always liked Sunday. However, in a poll of over 4,000 Americans, 35 percent favored Saturday, 29 percent celebrated Friday, and 14 percent joined me in my adoration of Sunday.
I question those results, and the methodology probably wouldn’t pass as rigorous or generalizable to the larger public. Besides, who wouldn’t like Sunday?
It’s the perfect day of the week to take a breath, reflect, or even find time for that hobby that gets pushed out of the way during a busy week. My affinity for the first or last day of the week, depending on your culture and perspective, began as a child.
Sunday at Grandma’s included a table full of delicious food. Chicken noodle soup, slow-cooked fried chicken, potatoes, sauerkraut, fresh green beans, and corn fresh from the field. The long country dining table with chairs for adults and a bench for numerous squirmy cousins held our plates, food, and family.
After the feast, the sisters all gathered on Grandma’s bed to talk, laugh, gossip, and doze as the sun and breeze embraced every corner of the room. In the meantime, inquisitive children found endless opportunities for adventure in the pastures or hen house.
Sunday morning took on a new meaning for our young family as Dad became the official cook for Sunday breakfast. Bacon sizzled in the pan, biscuits browned in the oven, and three eager faces waited every Sunday.
Children grew up, left, and had children of their own, but Sunday breakfast continued no matter how many sat around the table. Our grandson renamed our tradition when he announced that he had been visiting for three days, and we still had not eaten “big breakfast!” Sunday morning isn’t just about any meal.
It’s Big Breakfast Day!
Sundays of my past and today always remind me of the moments when I can stop, reflect, and connect. I don’t need to wait for Sunday to do any of this. Every day is a good day for gratitude and appreciating the interconnection of everything and everyone.
My Sundays go beyond fond memories and good food. Those days embody the relationships in my life that bring me joy, Tables change, faces come and go, but those connections remain.
Fun fact: Months that begin on a Sunday always have a Friday the thirteenth.
On any Sunday afternoon, how did I lose it all without a trace in silence?
An 85-year Harvard study confirms what I discovered on any given Sunday: good relationships bring health and happiness.
A slow and mellow song: “A Sunday Kind of Love” by the remarkable Etta James.
“Sometimes I have loved the peacefulness of an ordinary Sunday. It is like standing in a newly planted garden after a warm rain. You can feel the silent and invisible life.”
— Marilynne Robinson
If you would like to read more from me, visit my website. I’ll be there waiting for you.
With gratitude,
Kathryn
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Gorgeous Sunday memories, Kathryn 💗 When my kids were small, Sunday was pancake breakfast time. Their dad made a stack of fluffy pancakes and we ate them with ricotta, berries & maple syrup 🍁 A nice start to Sunday ☀️ Thanks for sharing your Sunday vibe 🧡
I miss having leisurely sundays. As a child, it meant waking up without any alarm, having a leisurely brunch followed by watching cartoons on the tv until it was lunch time. Then after lunch, my granny and I would catch a sunday matinee on tv. Once the movie was over, she'd go to her room for a nap and I'd head out to play badminton until the sun was done shinning for the day. Leisurely evening infront of the tv, then family dinner, and finally packing my school bag for monday.
Now all my days look the same and stay busy with either running errands or working.
Miss those days! ❤