quiet sundays

Growing up, we were one of those traditional families who stayed home on Sundays. Family day.

I'd pad down the stairs to the sound of soft rock and the crinkle of the Sunday paper, while the smell of instant coffee and bacon gently nudged me out of sleep. Most times sister Sara had already been down for her hangover nourishment and would pass me on the stairs on her way back to bed for another couple hours.

That was one thing about breakfast - Mom would make you whatever you wanted, but it had to be within an hour of Dad's eggs being cracked into the pan or you missed your opportunity for something homemade. After the one hour window, you'd still be fed, but it would be standard Monday thru Friday fare - oatmeal, Eggos, Life or Pop Tarts. We'd wade through the massive paper, passing the funnies, pointing to the day's favorite. There would be the lure of the Toys R Us flier and helping mom clip coupons because that meant playing with scissors.

Then there would be a couple of chores - raking leaves or stacking wood in the fall; pushing beans in the spring. Mom would resume her post in the kitchen , putting a roast in the oven and preparing all of the favorite fixings.

There would always be the Three Stooges and then sports on TV - most notably the Patriots, but the Bruins, Red Sox or Celtics were stand-ins off season. During football season you could hit up Dad for a juice cup of beer, even as a grade-schooler. Sometimes two if Dad was already a few deep and Mom wasn't looking. Fetching pull-tab cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon from the garage was part of the deal.

There were times those family days felt oppressive. A restriction to my social life. Other kids were hanging out, going to the movies! Through college and into my twenties, often I was torn. Who were these other alien kids who wanted to get out and about, to shop, drink, see a movie? Didn't they want to sit still, read, watch TV? Other times it was liberating - it was my time to do whatever I wanted. Watch football all day at the Beer Garden? Mimosas, Bloody Mary's, IPAs? Shopping in Harvard Square and a burger at Shea's? Heaven.

This was one of those mornings that bring me back to my quiet Sunday roots. Snuggling in bed for longer than anticipated. Bright blue skies, soft rock on the radio, the news online, a hot breakfast and coffee (not-instant). A couple chores, more snuggling.

Glimpses of a near certain future of more family days ahead.