Sunday

Come Sunday evening, my mind drifts to Vancouver, where my people often gather for family night dinner. It's informal, elbows around the table, kids spilling into the yard of that week's brave host.

Like potluck, but better.

I find myself thinking of all the things I would say, if I was drinking a glass of wine with my best friends tonight.

It's not that I'm unhappy here. I am drinking some Chinese medicine, to ward off a cold, and Greg is cooking for the second night in a row. I hear NFL from the other room; the dogs are nestled by my feet.

I just miss sharing it, with them. So I make due with phone calls, and texts, and emails, and know - as I did the day I moved - that I was blessed beyond measure. Still am.

Lucky, lucky me.

Comments

Jennifer said…
I love the idea of an evening like that. No wonder you miss it.
It really was nice - taking turns, but on no real schedule - and if you could make it? Great. If not, no sweat.

We really miss it.
Stu said…
We could always schedule our Sunday Dinner's a bit earlier so you can come and eat with us before heading home.

They are not the same without the Miltons around. Plus, Greg always makes yummy drinks...

-Stu
Anonymous said…
well, it suppose to be in 3D, can I download and watch? will it show normally?

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