By Lorry Myers
When my three children and their families come together for Sunday dinner, my heart and my kitchen are full. Actually, it could be breakfast, or supper, or cake in the afternoon; it doesn’t matter.
We still call it Sunday dinner.
Like me, my three children were raised around a Sunday table surrounded by grandparents and cousins. So, when these adult children moved back home, we quickly brought it back. Sunday dinners are a way to lean and love on each other, and connect generations of families together. We take turns, going to each other’s houses, carrying a dish when we walk through the door.
This Sunday, it was my turn.
The kitchen was full, dinner was done and we were sitting around in the afterglow. That’s when my daughter asked a question that seemed like something else. Mariah’s voice faltered, so I turned to look at her.
“Mom, what are you doing in September?”
“Well,” I said slowly, unsure where this was going.
“Because,” Mariah rushed to say, “in September, we’re going to have a baby.”
It only took 1.5 seconds for that announcement to sink in. With that, I jumped up and down, shimmied and shook and shot across the kitchen to wrap my arms around my pregnant daughter, screaming like I had just won the lottery.
This was more than Sunday dinner.
Mariah’s husband, Tanner, is a cancer survivor, a miracle of medicine, teamwork, and prayers. Their three-year-old daughter was born after a nurse’s advice to visit a fertility clinic before Tanner’s cancer treatment began. Their two-year-old son was born a surprise, because surprise, Tanner needed no help at all. This young couple has been through more of life’s ups and downs than anyone their age should. Instead of waiting, instead of being cautious in life, they decided to take a chance and live it.
“I don’t know how this happened?” Mariah wailed as I rocked her in my arms.
“Oh, I am pretty sure we know how this happened,” I joked, which certainly lightened the mood, but did nothing to soothe Mariah’s worries about mothering three under four.
While I made my baby name list, Tanner and Mariah made their appointments. Before, Mariah’s sister planned the gender reveals, but this time, Mariah requested the doctor call her brother with the news. For that Sunday dinner, the usual rowdy crowd was there, including my mom who is ninety-one and has attended each gender reveal both my daughters have been a part of.
For the complete column, see this week’s edition of the Centralia Fireside Guard.
