Yesterday was Sunday...my favorite day of the week every week. I don't know if it's the focus on rest and recuperation or if it's the gentle productivity in preparation for the week ahead, but there's just something about a Sunday that makes me feel content.
I spent most of yesterday fiddling around with this little blog layout and updating the about me page. (HUGE thanks to Ashley for another perfect revamp and design...she's amazing!) I was forcing myself to walk on the treadmill while doing so because otherwise I would've just laid in bed doing the same thing...and that's not how Fitbit step goals get reached! ;)
Anyhow, some time between the fiddling and the walking and the blaring of the Dixie Chicks Pandora station, I got all nostalgic in a real Sunday content sort of way. Before I knew it, I was flipping through old photos and grinning ear to ear as I remembered the stories those photos told.
I came across one of my older sister and I eating Snack Pack Pudding cups and sipping on Hi-C juice boxes on the front sidewalk of our old home. A Sunday tradition. Our little blonde heads are ratted messes and our clothes are a special kind of mismatched mayhem. There's a tree in the background that I don't remember ever being that small.
We're tiny and innocent; sitting cross legged on the same pavement that skinned up our knees a time or two. Our dolls and strollers likely aren't far off and the lawn appears to be freshly mowed...something our dad always fearlessly tended to in the good 'ole humidity of a Minnesota summer afternoon. I'd be willing to bet that our mom was the one snapping the picture. It's possible she had just come from the garden with a bucket heaping full of fresh onions, radishes, and green beans. Maybe even a few cobs of corn and a zucchini to fry. The makings of a delicious summer meal.
And there we were...Megan and I...amidst it all...content as can be. Pudding cups, juice boxes, and all.
Maybe they saw it in their giggling daughters on the hot pavement with a special Sunday snack. Maybe they saw it in eachother as they worked tirelessly to maintain the home they owned together. Maybe they didn't see it at all...but I do.
I love the memory and mood this photo encapsulates. I love that it reminds me of all the other memories we created in that front yard. From plowing paths through the woods just behind us to pushing our little sister down the hill in the bike cart to teaching our little brother how to ride his two-wheeler in the snow. I love it all and I'm thankful that one of my parents captured it because through doing so they taught me.
They taught me that there is always time to slow down and soak in the Sunday content. Of course, as we grow up, that "soaking in" starts to look a bit differently than this photo of my older sister and I...but it doesn't make it any less important. It might be making a phone call to an old friend or taking the time to journal. Maybe it's flipping through old photos and tearing up at how fast life goes and changes and then goes and changes, again. Whatever it may be, let's not allow these moments...these Sunday's...to slip away without a moment of content.