Lying in bed on a Sunday morning, I could smell coffee and the sizzling of bacon coming from the downstairs kitchen. I hear mom humming a tune as she tries to be quiet, knowing soon we'd wake up and may already be, as we struggle with going down or staying in a warm bed, covered to the chin, and breathing in the smells of Sunday morning.
Then the house came alive as siblings raced to be the first downstairs, where mom greeted each one with a cheerful good morning and a glass of orange juice. Dad was the last one down, smiling and giving Mom a kiss on her cheek with a whisper that made her blush. Our mouths were watering as we said grace, then dug into bacon and eggs, biscuits and homemade strawberry jam. Sometimes, Mom would go the extra mile and serve up a batch of pancakes and warm maple syrup.
Sunday morning meant lying on the living room floor with the comics as Dad read the entire Sunday newspaper. At ten thirty, we went to church, smiling at friends and saying prayers for those in need of some heavenly help. Sometimes after church, we'll take a ride in the country, usually in autumn when the trees put on their best show of colors. A stop for ice cream topped off the day as we returned home and changed from Sunday best to playing clothes in our backyard.
Sunday evening meant another feast as mom baked a ham, complete with yams and mashed potatoes, baby peas, jello, and warm dinner rolls. The conversation ranged from talking about school grades to the names of school crushes, making a sibling blush, and flicking a pea at the tattle-teller. After helping mom clean up and take out the trash, we'd all settle in to watch a Sunday program like the Ed Sullivan Show, which we all enjoyed.
Another Sunday back in the day went down in the history books as the kids went to sleep and mom and dad shared some much-deserved quiet time together. Tomorrow would soon arrive, and the bustle that went with it, as I was already thinking about next Sunday and the smell of sizzling bacon.
Sunday morning meant lying on the living room floor with the comics as Dad read the entire Sunday newspaper. At ten thirty, we went to church, smiling at friends and saying prayers for those in need of some heavenly help. Sometimes after church, we'll take a ride in the country, usually in autumn when the trees put on their best show of colors. A stop for ice cream topped off the day as we returned home and changed from Sunday best to playing clothes in our backyard.
Sunday evening meant another feast as mom baked a ham, complete with yams and mashed potatoes, baby peas, jello, and warm dinner rolls. The conversation ranged from talking about school grades to the names of school crushes, making a sibling blush, and flicking a pea at the tattle-teller. After helping mom clean up and take out the trash, we'd all settle in to watch a Sunday program like the Ed Sullivan Show, which we all enjoyed.
Another Sunday back in the day went down in the history books as the kids went to sleep and mom and dad shared some much-deserved quiet time together. Tomorrow would soon arrive, and the bustle that went with it, as I was already thinking about next Sunday and the smell of sizzling bacon.
Mike 2026
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