Waking up Sunday mornings to garlic. Mom, up early, making spaghetti, or roast and gravy, to be ready after church.
Coming home after school to Mom's ice box cookies, drizzled with glaze, perfect with milk.
Sitting in lawn chairs on the driveway,
inhaling the aroma of Dad's famous grilled chicken.
Peeking over the giant vat of boiling water as Grandpa stirred the crawfish.
Dipping the ladle in sparkling Christmas punch, to be sipped from my sister's delicate glass cups.
Baking Pillsbury cookie dough, to be eaten while we read, minds captured with the latest adventure.
Sipping coffee in the early quiet, as God prepares me for the day.
