Sunday

Sundays have got to be my favorite day of the week. They represent relaxation and peace, good meals and family time, its the day where I just take the time to live.

When I was growing up, Sundays were always reserved for family supper, my mom would be making food all day, sometimes a roast or grilled fish with about 10 million sides and a couple dessert to boot. We were very poor when I was very young, before 10-11. I remember sitting around mashed potatoes, and plain macaroni with some carrots, and my mother would act like it was a feast. And it was, because of the time we spent together. As we got older, that's when the roasts and the abundance of food made appearances, and those suppers are memories and life lessons that I cherish. We still meet once every two weeks for a delicious supper between us. Its a beautiful tradition that I am grateful for. It taught me to sit down, eat slowly, and enjoy the people you are with.

This past Sunday, Jeff and I made breakfast for Cecile, Jeff's father in law's mother. Shes like a grandmother to us, in fact, more of a grandmother than Jeff's blood relatives. She also happens to be living downstairs from us. Side note: Ive loved the experience of living in the same house as her, we pass leftovers back and forth, she's teaching me to make a few of her dishes and vice versa. It was her birthday last Friday, and the supper that was made for her by the rest of Jeff's family was a disaster, extremely awkward and frankly, an awful, purposely cruel mess. Relations are very strained between them and us/Cecile right now, so we chose not to take part of the supper, and do our own thing. Thank goodness for that choice because I dont know how I would have reacted had I been downstairs to witness what was done and said to her. Long story short, it became extremyl important to me, to give Cecile a pleasant experience where she could look back and remember something positive. So we chose breakfast.

It was very simple. Jeff made his famous pancakes, we made some bacon and a bowl of hard boiled eggs. A large plate of fresh fruit and everything you could possibly want on pancakes. A simple tablecloth, potted flowers and candles were the tables decorations, along with very simple name tags I quickly made the night before. She had never been to a pyjama party, so we were all in our pjs. \ Just simple food and simple beauty, but it was what she needed to receive and what I needed to give. We chatted for a good two hours or so, and then it was done. When she went back downstairs, she hugged us hard and told me no one had ever done this for her before. Something so simple. People dont need things, they need moments.