There's no place like home.

There's no place like home.
Home is where my husband and I reside; wherever that may be.

Monday, July 28, 2014

Big Hunks of meat and the Sunday Social Whirl

Sunday's are lonely around here.  I do have my husband and am eternally grateful for the blessing of his presence in my life.  But Sunday is still the loneliest day of my week.

When my kids were home and growing up I tried hard to make Sunday, the only day of the week that they had their father's undivided attention, a special day for all involved.  When they were young we took day trips to various parks, historical sites, and attractions within a reasonable driving distance from our farm.  On many an occasion we hired a man to milk for Doug so that we didn't even have to hurry home for chores and milking. As they got older we would have the occasional party on Sunday and invite friends and their families over for the afternoon.

Sunday's were filled with bonfires, cookouts, group rosaries, and time in the pool.  The past few summers I tried to celebrate like this more and more often because they were leaving in droves and I experienced a certain urgency to build memories that they could take with them wherever they went.  I recall a particular Sunday after church when I invited a family that we had come to be friends with saying, "We're having big hunks of meat and a bonfire later with the rosary."  Now this family is mostly populated by girls so the idea of big hunks of meat on the grill might not be a draw for them but for my kids, being boys, it was always reason for some fun.

Now that we have moved away there is no reason for me to provide "big hunks of meat" and there is no more "Sunday Social Whirl" but memories of those days stay with me even here.  Memories of little kids and water, a trampoline, and a sandbox speak of warm days and muggy evenings.  The smell of wood smoke conjures up the rise and fall of young voices praying the comforting words of the Rosary wafting toward heaven along with the sparks of a bonfire.  Hotdogs, hamburgers, and salt potatoes remind me of evenings sitting out on the porch chatting with family and friends as the sun goes down behind the barn.  Face time chats with family and friends give back the sounds of young squeals in the pool, squirming little bodies slick with sun screen, and fireworks viewed while rocking little ones sated from a day of fun.

I am thankful for all of the memories made and grateful to all the friends who populate those memories. Little did I know that I would be the one getting such benefits from a gift for my kids.

2 comments:

Peggy Wolf said...

This is a beautiful post and beautifully written. How well I can relate and recall those fun, memory building times when my sons were young. While memories are heartwarming they do come with an edge of melancholy.

Anonymous said...

Well said friend.
Well done as well. Wish I had that vision when my children were young.
Praying that the Lord will bless your Sabbath rest. ugotafriend