Sunday Afternoon

Sunday afternoons have taken on different meanings to me through various periods of my life.

As a kid, Sunday afternoons were a time to spend with extended family. For a while, during the summers, we would go on a picnic every Sunday, with relatives from my mother's side of the family. Nana would make stuffed peppers. We'd go for walks along the Indian Ladder Trail in Thatcher Park. As we got a little older, we went up to Brown's Beach on Saratoga Lake. [I see where a developer is planning some mammoth tourist project there.]

We would also share our Sunday afternoons with relatives from my father's side of the family. We would gather at my grandparents house. The adults would play pinnocle or Tressette. And, as Italians do, we would eat. We made up our own games to pass the time. Shark, being one of the most exciting (as if!)

Once my own family came along, Sunday afternoons became a time to spend at home, hanging out together, relaxing, reading, playing games, visits from parents, and of course, eating. We would also spend time at church and due to physical limitations at church, that time would alternate years, mornings one year, afternoons the next. But it was a time to be together.

Sunday afternoons are time alone for me much of the time now. I use the afternoon to relax, reflect, listen to music, read the paper. On occasion there may be someplace to go with extended family or friends. My kids live in different areas of the country now and there are no weekly Sunday afternoons getting together. Now hearing their voices on the phone takes on it's own special and precious meaning for Sunday afternoon.