It was a given.
Evening church, then Grandma's house.
I'll have to check with my mom to see how and when this was actually set into motion, but I don't remember a time in my childhood when we didn't go to Grandma's on Sunday nights. She kept this tradition until she moved out of her house to an assisted living facility. Since this was such a regular gathering, many of my memories of my grandma are tied up in Sunday night family dinners. And here, on the week of what would have been her 100th birthday on earth, I reflect on the privilege of growing up with Dorothy Kinser as my grandma.
The People
On the north side of small town, Indiana, Grandma and Grandpa's house was just down the road from our church. We could count on the service ending right around the hour mark, and we usually didn't linger very long afterwards so that we could go straight to the house around 7:00. My mom was the middle child surrounded by brothers on either end, and they lived locally, too. This meant that it wasn't just my immediate family at our Sunday night gatherings. My uncles Doug and Dennis, both well-respected in our town, were there with their wives Jennifer and Jenny. There was a bit of an age gap from me to my oldest cousins -- Michelle and Beth both got married when I was young. They each had a boy and a girl, so those cousins joined the mix, too, whenever they were in town. Dennis and Jenny had two kids that lined up with Jon and me. I was two months older than Chris. His older sister Steph was the same age as my brother Jon. Built-in playmates every Sunday night! I have fond memories of...
- hiding Easter eggs all through the year
- climbing through the window between the bedroom and the added-on family room
- watching television like the old staple "America's Funniest Home Videos" with Bob Saget
- riding the big exercise bike
- playing on Grandpa's power lift chair (even though we probably weren't supposed to)
- going outside to play on the big swing or find cicada shells while climbing the tree
- playing games or making up something to do
- setting off the motion light on the side of the house when it got dark
- looking for slugs on the steps as we left (we'd always pour salt on them to watch them squirm, which, looking back, was pretty cruel)
The Food
Another big part of the gathering was the food! Since she was at church, too, Grandma would have everything prepped ahead of time. I remember...
- a cheese tray with string cheese cut into pieces and slices of colby cheese that she cut from the cylinder block
- cottage cheese and applesauce (often together!)
- a big pan of red jello
- pickles! My uncle used to tell me I'd turn into a pickle because I ate so many
- chips and that wonderful puffcorn
- lemon-lime and orange soda
- fresh chocolate chip cookies. They were always small and slightly crispy on the bottom.
I'm sure there was more, but these are the foods I remember. Hey -- I was a kid! Jello was the type of thing that filled my plate! I also liked it when Grandma picked up a platter of roast beef from the Hardee's down the road.
The adults would all sit around the big table in the kitchen. I rarely spent any time there on Sunday nights. For one thing, it was pretty crowded (we'd always have to squeeze behind the person next to the refrigerator to get to the other side of the house). For another thing, it was hard for me as a kid to get a word in. Sometimes, I would think of something to contribute to the conversation but by the time there was a pause long enough for me to add my thoughts, the topic had already changed.
My family was usually the last to leave. Dad would always say "Thanks for us!" as we walked out. I never understood that phrase. Thanks for giving us food? Thanks for having us over? We'd look for slugs as we stepped down to the van (and run back inside for the salt if we spotted any). As we drove away, we'd give a "toot toot." I'm not sure where that originated from either, but it essentially means "Goodbye! We love you!" I still do it when leaving a family member's house to this day.
Now that I have a family of my own, I would love for my boys to have the type of "Sunday night" atmosphere that was such a formative part of my own childhood. The boys do have cousins who line up nicely to their ages, like I did with Steph and Chris. We often get together for family dinners, but it's not as consistent of a fixture as every Sunday night. And now with COVID-19 social distancing, we haven't gotten together much at all. Sigh...
As I've been reflecting on my memories of my grandma, I realize that many of them center not on specific words or stories but the atmosphere of "home" that she created and the culture of "family" that she cultivated. She set up the regular time and space for us to gather as a family and have shared conversations and shared experiences. And even though I don't remember a single conversation that I tried to interrupt, I remember the love from that table. And from those homemade chocolate chip cookies. Thanks, Grandma, for filling my belly and heart every Sunday night.
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| Enjoying jello with my "cuz" (probably on a Sunday night) |
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