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Remembering Sunday's

When I was a kid, my faith was formed by my parents.  Every single Sunday was a celebration.  Wake up to fresh donuts my Dad brought home the night before.  The variety was spectacular.  Never was there a bad choice!  We would all get ready for Sunday Mass then.  The Mass was beautiful, in a beautiful Catholic Church.  

I remember sitting beside my Dad.  Staring at Monsignor Garland.  I didn't always understand what he was talking about at such a young age, but I really really liked him.  He was my friend.  He was my families friend.  Not in the way you may think.  He didn't come over for dinner or hang out having a beer (in Monsignors case, a nice glass of whiskey) on the front porch with Dad.  He was just there at St. Phillips, always.  My Dad did the security for the Church and School and especially the graveyard!  The graveyard was sometimes occupied after dark by teenagers sneaking beers.  

So after the Sunday Mass we would all come home and my Mom would make delicious hoagies under the broiler.  Or famous hotdogs!  Then she would sit and do the newspapers Sunday crossword puzzle...in ink!  That is how I found out how brilliant she is.  I would try later in life to do these and could never finish it.  I also remember Rege Cordic.  He would come on TV on a Sunday afternoon to introduce an afternoon movie.  

On most Sundays my Dad would have to work a few hours in the afternoon.  He would check corporate warehouses and businesses closed on Sunday.  Remember when no one worked on Sunday???  About 4:00, Mom would start peeling potatoes and we girls would start helping with dinner.  My Dad would come in and come into the kitchen a number of times to see how soon dinner was ready.  Drove Mom a little crazy! This dinner was not just any dinner.  Sunday dinner was amazing.  Roast Beef, mashed potatoes and gravy, corn, cranberries, cucumber salad, biscuits!  Then dessert.  Maybe a pineapple upside down cake with a cup of coffee for Dad.  Along with dessert would be the stories from Dad and sometimes farm stories from Mom.  I N E V E R got tired of the stories.  My Dad would be so animated and the laughter!!!  We then cleaned the kitchen and either went off to our rooms to do homework or off to watch Disney that was on at 7:00 p.m.  

That was pretty much my Sundays growing up.  Perfect in my mind.  Sundays were a celebration all revolving around Mass.  Sunday was about family and food.  Laughter and helping.  My Dad dressing in a suit, all of us dressed up!  Sundays were special and sacred.  This is what I want my own children to remember.  Things are different now, but the feeling that Sunday is different should be felt.  That Sunday revolves around the best meal, the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ.



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