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I love Sundays.
A cacophony of sound wakes me up rather than my alarm
The sound of my mother waking me up, sometimes soft, often times stern
The sound of cabinets opening and closing
The sound of water flowing through the faucet
The sound plates and utensils
And the shout of “let’s eat”
Sundays is that day of the week where family gathers
Where we can eat breakfast together,
Leave the house together
And go to Church together
It’s also the day we have lunch with other family members
Cooking together, catching up and cleaning up after.
I love the togetherness of the family on Sundays
Because for the rest of the week, we are busy trying to be adults
Leaving the house early, and arriving late in the night
Sometimes you eat a late breakfast, or its too late for dinner.
But on Sundays, I feel like a kid again,
With mothers and aunts worrying for you
And making sure you are fed.
Asking about your well-being, though sometimes nagging
Sometimes reprimanding.
But it reminds me to be responsible, to be strong and to be brave
And if I can’t be those anymore, I have a family who will feed me, cry with me and will always support me.
No matter how chaotic this day starts, it always ends with a warm hug.
Love, February