Sunday Dinners

My oldest sister Penny was married when I was 18 months, and I barely remember my next oldest sister Becky living at home.  So most of my early Sunday meal memories center around my parents and three other sisters Melissa, Stacy and Kelly.

My mother took a full time job when I was two.  I remember her coming home night after night and still having to cook dinner.  I didn’t realize it then, but looking back, she must have been exhausted.  We mostly had simple meals.  Sometimes Dad would cook, and always Mexican food when it was his turn.   But when Sunday came, I could count on roast beef, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, bread and usually a dessert of strawberry shortcake or a watermelon.  I really looked forward to Sunday dinners.

This took place during the time that our family went to Sunday School in the morning, then went back for Sacrament (the congregational meeting) in the late afternoon.  So dinner fell between these hours.  I anticipated Sunday dinner and felt a certain comfort in knowing what was coming. 

The family would gather around the kitchen table which was actually an old, round, outside picnic table complete with the umbrella hole in the center which never did get filled in.  Dad shellacked it to a glossy finish so we wouldn’t get splinters. It had four wooden benches around it that sat two each.  Dad always had the same bench to himself.  I usually fought to sit next to mom, and for some reason, no one wanted to sit in the back by the window.

It was customary that no one eat before the prayer.  But the minute “Amen” was said, the food would fly.  At our house, you had to finish what was on your plate before you could have seconds.  And naturally I always wanted seconds.  This meant having to eat as quickly as Dad so there would BE seconds for me.  I still eat pretty fast.

Nowadays, our Sunday church schedule has changed.  But my passion for a great Sunday dinner has not.