Charles' mom, Annabelle, was one of those moms and grandmas. She was truly an old-fashioned woman. She never learned to drive. She was a stay-at-home mom. She woke up each morning at dawn to tend to her flower garden, which was filled with irises, a fig tree, and many other beautiful plants. Then she would proceed to make breakfast. It was always something of substance: eggs, hash browns, pancakes, muffins, sausages, biscuits and gravy, bacon, or toast. She would feed her boys and while they ate, she would pack them homemade lunches (or they would come home for a homemade lunch). The dishes were always washing in the dishwasher that she had to roll over to the sink. Laundry was always being folded or put away and even after she had her stroke, she could still fold laundry one-handed, better than I could with two (Charles' exact words!). The house was always kept clean, but it was never pretentious; it felt lived in. She crocheted, knitted and sewed from patterns. She made homemade potpourri, and she knew how to can vegetables and fruit from the garden. Dinner was always ready when the boys came home.
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| Christmas 2002, a year before she passed, Charles and I went to visit her in the home where she was cared for to tell her the great news: Charles and I were finally engaged! Charles is tickling her to get her to smile. |
And on Sunday, Annabelle had a standing invitation for any and all to come by and eat dinner or just hang out. Oftentimes, I would be there, just as an observer, watching and seeing how much they all enjoyed each other's company. How they tried to outdo each other with their stories. How they easily engaged in a game of cards, while telling jokes on the side. How they laughed and made fun of "the old man" and defended and spoiled "the old woman." It was definitely one of those images I will never forget.
In the spirit of these Sunday Dinners that Annabelle, and many before her have hosted, and in wanting the sense of closeness, familiarity, and family for our daughters, we started a tradition of a Sunday Dinner.
Obviously, in modern times where everyone lives an hour away from each other and has filled-to-the brim social calendars with sports, dance, music, school, and work activities, we wanted to be realistic to how often our Sunday Dinners would occur. We figured, about once a month (excluding the holiday season) we could host a dinner for any and all.
So far, we have hosted five family dinners since the girls were born (sometimes even once a month is hard!). And a great one was hosted at my aunt Jeanette and uncle Michael's house for the girls' first birthday. They have each been a fun, casual way to spend time with family, and remind us to be thankful of those who are in our lives.
Enjoy some of the pictures from these blessed events! (see additional posts).
2 comments:
how sweet
That's how it is here. The Sunday dinners at Grandma's.
While we didn't necessarily have that in our family growing up, I do like that we HAD dinner at all because nowadays, people don't even sit down for dinner every night any more and everyone seems to just fend for themselves. We had dinner every night at 6PM SHARP! But also, when it came to Sunday, my parents made sure that Sunday was 'special', and it always did have the same homey-ness that you describe.
It's good you're starting that tradition because it's a memory that never does fade.
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