When I was a little kid, I remember my mother putting together a really nice dinner on Sunday afternoons. We had chicken, greens, cornbread, and black eyed peas. Sometimes there was a pot roast or catfish or ox tails and rice or macaroni and cheese. We could smell dinner as we entered the house after church. We went and changed out of our church clothes and we ate dinner and all was good with the world. Why couldn’t life remain as simple (and most of the time as happy) as it was back then? I know part of it was because I had to grow and life had to go on, and most of the time I am content with that answer, but sometimes I still miss things and people from then that are long gone.
Me too. Yes, my mom worked during the week and although she cooked dinner most nights Sunday we had the big breakfast and the Sunday dinner. Even after I left home she still did it and I would come by to eat with her and bring food back to my apartment. She is still the best cook I know.
It is so awesome to have a mom like that. Yet I never really truly appreciated it until I had to cook myself. 🙂
Right!