The time spent with loved ones is precious and anyone you admit to your precious moments is family.
When I think of a perfect Sunday, I remember those of my childhood with my whole family having a picnic outside on a sunny day. I recall the distinct sense of calm and happiness and can almost hear the cheerful conversations filled with laughter. I feel as if the weight of the world is lifted off my shoulders, and that I am back at an age so young that one vaguely remembers, making it impossible to believe that such a long time has passed since.
It’s only recently that I realised how my Sundays have gotten crammed with various activities at the same rate as they were becoming lonelier. I was looking for the serenity of older times when stuck in traffic on the way back from a calming walk in nature, and the hours spent sitting in the cinema with my other half without saying a word but assuming that this was sharing the moment. Instead of making a fresh start to the week, I often returned home tired on Sunday evenings. I don’t know if the number of my action-filled Sundays exceeded the old, calm Sundays of my childhood, but I believe that it’s never too late to find my own version of a family Sunday.
Some of my new hobbies, such as painting the walls of the house, going to the bakery first thing in the morning to stock up for a family breakfast, setting up dinner tables that would compete with the best seats in the stadium on a football derby night, and organising family photos are things that take me back to that same feeling. But this time, my imagination allows new people to join in to my memories of Sunday family gatherings. It’s like having complete strangers appear on old photos of childhood picnics which still ooze with calmness, happiness and laughter. Instinctively I know that these strangers have already become a part of my new family.
Because the time spent with loved ones is precious and anyone you admit to your precious moments is family.
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