Sunday, February 26, 2017

Sunday Memories

Growing up, Sundays were always a day of worship and a day of rest.  Sunday school and church services were mandatory.  There were Bible verses to be memorized during the week and then recited in class and sermons to be listened to afterward.  The preachers then didn't give a hoot about your "feeeelings."  They weren't even close to being politically correct.  They preached Hellfire and Brimstone.  They didn't worry about offending anyone. If you didn't repent and give up your wicked ways, you were going directly to Hell.  There were no gray areas.  I think I liked that.  At least you left the church service knowing exactly where you stood.

Arriving home from church, we were greeted by wonderful aromas coming from the kitchen.  Before church, Mother would put a pot roast or a chicken or a pork roast in a pan, surround it with potatoes, carrots and onions and let it slow bake in the oven while we were gone.  I noticed that if the preacher was particularly long-winded and his sermon went past the noon hour, Mother would get fidgety, worried that her Sunday dinner would dry out in the oven before she got home.  I don't ever remember that happening.  Sunday dinners were always the highlight of the week as far as meals went.

Sunday afternoons were a time for family.  We didn't always do things together, but we were still together as a family.  On rainy Sundays I could be found in my bedroom, reading Bobsey Twins books or the latest Nancy Drew mystery.  Or sometimes I would just sit listening to the radio and knitting or crocheting.   Or maybe embroidering a pretty picture on one of those flour sack dishtowels.  My little sister was more interested in dolls so she would be in the playhouse my Dad built for her, having a tea party with the neighbor girls.  Or we might spend the afternoon putting together a jigsaw puzzle.  There was always a card table set up with a half finished puzzle on it.

I never understood Mother's reasoning, but she believed that regular playing cards were evil.  So in the evenings we might play some Mother approved card games like Rook or Uno or Old Maid.  Sometimes Dad would get out one of the board games and we would play Scrabble or Yahtzee or Sorry or Clue (The professor in the library with a candlestick.)  :)

Sunny summer Sunday afternoons were a good time to go for a ride.  We didn't usually have a destination in mind.  We might stop at one of the one room schoolhouses in the area and play on the swings and teeter-totters.  Or we might go for a swim at the lake.  Sometimes Dad would just drive a meandering path until we came to one of the small towns in the area where he would find a place that sold ice cream cones.

Sometimes on a Sunday afternoon we would have company come.  Could be friends from town or my aunt and uncle and cousins.  Dad might set up the badminton net for the kids or maybe get out the croquet set.  Most often he would fill the ice cream maker with the ingredients and ice, and set the kids out on the back steps to work the crank until we had real, homemade ice cream.  The best was when he added sliced peaches or strawberries to the mixture.  We would enjoy the ice cream with a pitcher of ice cold lemonade and either gingersnaps or sugar cookies out on the front porch.

Now you might say that I grew up in a Mayberry kind of world, and you might be close to right.  It was a time, 60 years ago, when we enjoyed the more simple things in life.  It wasn't perfect by any means, but we were raised by parents who taught us right from wrong and who took the time to be with us, whether it was going for a Sunday ride or to church or playing a game of Scrabble.  I look at my grands and see that even though their world is much different than mine was, they are still being raised with some of the Mayberry values.  Gives me hope for their futures.

12 comments:

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    1. When you get to be my age, Jenn, you spend a lot of time strolling down Memory Lane. :)

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  2. Sunday meant church with my parents as well. I wasn't fond of having to go off to Sunday school though. Then the three of us would go out to breakfast. We'd alternate between two restaurants. Then my Dad would go off to work. We'd have our big dinner each week on Saturday night. Mostly it was my Dad on the BBQ and he'd say it was 'Mom's night off' cooking. I realized at some point, she really was the master mind even though he might be at the BBQ.
    Thanks for letting me stroll down memory lane with you. Cheers, SJ in Vancouver

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    1. SJ...I think attending church services was more the norm back then than it is today. My mother was a devout Baptist and missing church on Sunday was unthinkable to her. I sort of got away from church attendance when I worked a series of jobs that required working weekends. I am glad, though, that most of my kids attend services regularly.
      Your Mom was a genius. Let Dad BBQ and gain a night free from cooking. I love it!
      These days I find myself on Memory Lane quite often. It wasn't all Mayberry and Mom's apple pie, but I tend to focus on the good and minimize the bad. After all, I can not go back and change the bad stuff, so why dwell on it. It is much nicer to remember lovely Sunday afternoons. :)

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  3. Vicki a wonderful story. Some Sundays we would drive up to Rush City to visit Dad's family. Maybe it was Saturday. We stopped at a mom and Pop dinner is Harris, I think, they had roast beef that was to die for. I will forever remember going my my grandparents to their lake place, small trailer, and even to my In Laws home in Longville...Good times, great memories..

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    1. Rob...It is good to remember those times. There is so much ugliness in the world today. I think it helps to remember how our lives were then and it gives us some hope that they could be that way again. Your story about stopping at the mom and pop diner reminded me of trips I made taking my Dad to the University Hospital in St. Paul. There was one of those diners at about the halfway point, and we always stopped there for breakfast. They had the very best caramel rolls and Bismarks in the entire state!

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  4. Most of that sounds pretty familiar, Vicki. "Thanks for the memories," as they used to sing.

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    1. Gorges...I think that no matter in what part of the country we were raised, many of us experienced the same sort of upbringing that revolved around church and family. It was just a way of life then and I really wish it still was.

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  5. I love the way you write posts like this.

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    1. Thank you, BW...I like to tell my kids and grands what life used to be like. I fear they will never know that simple kind of life. And as my memory fades with the years, it is a good way for me to remember. :)

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  6. Ah, Sundays! We had this humongous footed iron stove with the bread warmer on top and the oven door opened with a foot pedal. The "burners" were heavy, round iron plates that could be lifted off the stove with a handle. Dad would use them to cook the pancakes and sometimes, apple fritters on. (wish I had that stove now-a-days)!

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    1. Oh, CM...I would kill for a stove like that one. Sounds kind of like the big iron wood burning stove my Grandma used to cook the most wonderful meals. There was a bread warmer on top that she used to keep the pancakes warm while she fried enough to feed her 9 kids!

      Sundays seem to hold memories for a lot of folks. Especially when it comes to Sunday meals. :)

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