On Sundays, We Dance

On Sundays, we dance.

When it came to a point in our lives where some of our children did not live with us anymore, my husband and I started the tradition of hosting Sunday dinner. During my own childhood our extended family would get together at the home of my grandparents.  On Sundays, I would see my grandparents, and all of my aunts, uncles, and cousins.  This was a time to enjoy my Grandmother’s wonderful cooking, including some of the traditional Romanian fare – oh those dumplings and cabbage rolls! But it was also a time when I experienced a special connection with my extended family. The first time I had a sip of coffee, was at that grown up table! I also learned how to pour tea for everyone. My grandmother's first, because she liked it the weakest, my dad's at the end because his needed to be stronger. If my great aunts and uncles came to visit from the country, or from another city, there was always room at that table, or for us kids, who often lined up along the wall on the floor for our meal. Laughter, gossip and after dinner games of crib for those who were brave enough to play - that is what I remember. One time I was excited to have made a cake for dessert to contribute to the meal, but I made it in my easy-bake oven, and it was so small that there was only enough for my grandparents.  My Grandpa said it was delicious! That was more than 45 years ago now, and I remember it vividly. It was chocolate.

 My husband comes from a very close-knit family.  I think of it as being small compared to mine. Their Sunday dinners were at a smaller table, and more intimate. Most of my husband's extended family lived across the country, so his experience as a child was very different from mine. Those big gatherings only happened rarely when family flew in to visit. I think that the feeling of connection during those occasions was the same as I experienced as a child, but for him, those times were fewer.

Back to now. No matter how crazy a week it has been, we know that Sunday is coming and we will be together with all of our kids again.  My widowed mother is also a steady guest, as often is my niece. My husband is an AMAZING cook (I am truly blessed), and everyone goes home with a full belly, and leftovers.

My eldest granddaughter (who is three) calls Sunday her “Happy Day”. She says it is her happy day for many reasons, one of which is that she gets to see her great-grandmother, and all her aunts and uncles. She also gets to see her new baby cousin, my youngest granddaughter, who, at the time that I am writing this, is just three weeks old. Our big girl is a little uncertain right now, as she was waiting for the new baby to arrive so that they could sing “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”, watch Disney movies together and share play dough. For her, this little bundle of joy that sleeps in our arms all the time isn’t really what she had expected.

But the biggest reason our little granddaughter calls it Happy Day is because, on Sundays, we dance.

After my kids clear the dining room table, and wash the dishes (did I mention I am truly blessed?) the music starts to play, and there is a kitchen dance party. The music will range from New Wave to Country, to Classical fare, but it will all be loud, and there will be LOTS of dancing. The little girl dances with her Grandparents, her Aunties, her Uncles.  Last weekend, while we were enjoying the new baby, and perhaps lingering too long over the last of a wonderful dinner, when my granddaughter came and whispered in her Uncle’s ear…”will you come dance with me?” And that little girl was reassured that even if her Uncle was a new daddy himself, with lots of new responsibilities and distractions, there was always time for a little Spirit of the West, and a Celtic reel with his niece.

And then the dance floor was filled. And when my adult kids dance and laugh together, it reminds me of when they were small and people would tell me how rare it was that siblings could be as close as my kids were. And that it was a surprise to see them get along so well together. That three children was going to be trouble, because there would always be two against one, and that one would always be left out. But no, they all dance together, and laugh, and hug and smile, and my heart is full, and my feet are tired. 

These three amazing adults are as connected now as much as they were as children. And now their children, will learn that feeling of family connection.

So on Sundays, on Happy Days, we dance.