Sundays when I was young were a day unlike the rest of the week. Our day would begin with my dad playing gospel and hymns records, Jim Neighbors, Tennessee Ernie Ford, Eddie Arnold and Jim Reeves to name a few. All played loudly & accompanied by my dad singing along. Dad had a nice voice, I don't think he could of been a successful recording artist but it was nice. The smell of eggs frying or pancakes on the griddle would greet our noses. And we were up & ready for breakfast. There was a bustle to the household as we all took turns in the bathroom getting ready for church. If you were ready early you could read the "funnys" as we called them, comics to everybody else. Or look through the adds at things you were never going to buy. And then it was off to Church. In my memories it's perpetually Spring, I am somewhere between 10 and 14 years old and hoping to get to talk with one of the girls I went to grade school with. Dad was a Council member so he was an usher and he stayed & counted the offering. This meant we would be one of the last families to leave church. It was very difficult for boys in spring to stay neat and tidy while we waited to go home. Home from church kick off the dress shoes & clothes and into relaxation mode. Dinner would be ready soon. A roast or perhaps fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy. You just couldn't beat Moms cooking.
Needless to say I would love to do this all again. As I write this the memories are awesome. I am happy but so full of heartache, I miss these people, this time and the Love I didn't even see was there in everything that was done. It's as if we lived in a bubble or cloud of love, I can still remember it, warm, peaceful and calm.
Thanks Mom & Dad.
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