A Sunday Afternoon...

Yesterday, we discovered that Elizabeth had sprouted a mysterious set of "spots" all over her little tummy, so we stayed home from church today. I haven't accomplished many of the things I was hoping to, but maybe I can still squeeze in the walk I've been meaning to take.

An aunt and cousin surprised us with a visit this afternoon and our grandparents drove up from town like they usually do every Sunday.

My "Papa" always brings his little dog Penny with him and sits in the same spot, on the same couch, with Penny curled up on his arm. He is solemn and quiet, and pretends he's not listening to our conversation, though I know he really is. He sits with his hat pulled low over his brown eyes until I come along to stir up the wonderful old stories he has within him.

We "women" always sit at the dining room table, Sarah and I, armed with our knitting, fingers flashing, are busy weaving yarn into something lovely to wear.

My "Nana", bubbly and talkative, sits with her fingers curled around a thick mug filled with hot, steaming coffee. I often fix it for her, just the way she likes it, with just a dash of milk to cloud the black liquid and turn it into a lovely coppery tone.

Everyday life resounds in my ears...these sounds have become lovingly familiar to me. The clink of spoon against a mug, Sarah's laugh, Elizabeth's eager delight in showing something to Nana that she probably showed her last week, the offering of food to Papa which he will unfailingly turn down.

Sometimes it seems like we go through the same motions each week, say the same things, offer the same food, laugh over the same funny stories....but truthfully, I never grow tired of it. I know one day I'll be so grateful to have spent this time happily with my grandparents. And I wouldn't for the world miss a second of it.