Sunday Dinner

Every Sunday for as long as I can remember, my dad’s family has met at my grandmother’s house after church for Sunday dinner. This is one of those things my family has always done that I probably took for granted before moving to Nashville. There’s something about growing up doing things a certain way, that sometimes makes it hard to see how rare and special family traditions truly are. I almost fell in the mindset that everybody’s family has the option of getting together at least one time a month; therefore, what’s so unique about my family?!

Thankfully, time and circumstances have a way of putting these things back into perspective sometimes. I now realize how fortunate my family has been to have kept this tradition alive all of these years. My grandmother is ninety-three years old and yet we still meet at her house EVERY Sunday after church for lunch.  And if the good Lord’s willing, I hope we continue this Sunday tradition for at least ten more years!

Of course things have changed over the years.  We have added new members to the family by birth and marriage. The menu has changed from my grandmother’s legendary pot roast (that I used to crave when I was sick) to fried chicken. The grandkids no longer play dress up or go swimming after lunch- instead we’re cutting up with the uncles in the dining room.  And my grandmother is no longer rushing home from early church every Sunday- instead my aunts are faithfully preparing the food every Sunday morning. 

But do you know what hasn’t changed… the laughter (sometimes through tears, but mostly through joy) we share as we discuss our busy weeks; the memories we reminisce on Sunday after Sunday; and the way my grandmother’s face lights up when we walk through the front door after church.

  

On this particular Sunday, our relatives from Colorado and Hong Kong came to visit my grandmother. We thoroughly enjoyed our time with them!

My friends know without a shadow of a doubt where I will be on Sundays after church. They also know they are always welcome to join me because in the words of my grandmother, “The more the merrier!” And if I were a betting woman, I bet she would probably even greet you with a smile and tell you, “We're so glad you're here.”

Thank you, Jesus, for another Sunday dinner with my family. We could not have asked for a better matriarch for our family.

Bk