There are many things that can be cherished in life but nothing comes close to a Sunday. For years growing up Sunday began with church and a donut or big breakfast. I used to hate the church part but love the fact that time stood still for a few hours that day each week. There is nothing like a Sunday to make one feel like they have permission to take things just a little bit slower.
The pace of my weeks, months, years as I become more grown up seem to go by at lightning speed. I sit sometimes and try to remember the first job I had, the last time I didn't have responsibility, or that day long ago that I slept until I wanted to get up...I didn't HAVE to get up. Strange thing is I come back to Sundays a lot.
There are many things that my parents did right, they are wonderful and I can't say enough good things about them. Sunday's were their gift to me. The tradition and formality of Sundays made them a big deal in my mind. We spent an hour quietly thinking (or daydreaming) about everything the past week had entailed, and at the end of our quiet time we went home to slowly move through the day together. There were not many Sunday's that we spent apart.
I continue to remind myself to slow down and what better day to do it than on a Sunday.