Every Sunday in the morning, we have bread & an espresso. Grandpa will usually read the newspaper while eating his breakfast. Grandma will be sorting our lunch which will last till 7 pm. We enjoy one glass of wine (optional). My mother will usually make traditional Portuguese meals, and my siblings and I will sit around the table to eat. Sunday is generally the only day we get together along the kids. My parents have raised five boys and one girl, and they have helped and have been there through the birth of all their grandkids! My grandparents have raised more kids and have more grandchildren than I can count or even put together. So you can imagine we are a big family.

We sit and talk about everything under the sun but always respect our elders. It’s tradition to keep our family reunions in our family and culture. The food usually has us full and satisfied by 7 pm, only to find myself horizontal on the couch thumbs-deep in millennial TikTok humour and dressed in monogrammed millennial t-shirts.

These rituals feel less… cinematic, don’t they? (What would my protagonist montage be at the beginning of a family reunion? Yelling at my son to “hurry up” their bathroom break? Grabbing my plate and waitressing my way through the dining room table, hoping my siblings won’t make fun of my Sunday hobo look) So, I wonder: Is it easier to romanticise other people’s rituals and criticise our own?

I don’t know what I would change. Read a new novel on my nightstand; stroll through our neighbourhood after dinner; write a new blog page on the book inside of me; I won’t lie to you and say I aspire to be a better cook or discover the magic of tidying up. I like to live in big, juicy brush strokes, which sometimes means the details get messy (But my biggest flex is things always get done for my little one). You know, stairs sprinkled with shoes; a smattering of receipt-filled purses on the kitchen table; mirrors smudged with the kid’s fingerprints and maybe chocolate (is that chocolate ?) forgotten car toys that I step over a million times. I like to think these trinkets paint the picture of boisterous life (he inserts an angelic, forgive-me grin)

And while my intentions are to do more sincere stuff on a Sunday, it’s also possible that nothing needs changing. Instead, what if I sharpened my focus on the beauty of what’s happening now? Paying closer attention both in the moment and while reflecting makes it easier to see and stay in the moment. Instead, I could attempt to make it cinematic and say, “I sip my glass of wine while my son brushes his hands across the tv screen with melted ice cream and giggles, While everyone is sat around the table drinking and eating the delicious meal and chatting along while music playing quietly in the background. The dogs are eating their meals and barking along with the kids.” Et voilà! Suddenly, my life is a more endearing-character in development with less frazzled filled scenes. Hehe 😜

After all, tiny details are where the magic lies in our lives, Sunday dinners, movies, art, and even thank you notes. It’s the intentions that grab us, move us, and show us that there’s something delightful in all our days, dumpy pyjamas in our laundry rooms and bare feet included, all while chopsticks hold my hair up. Because not everything is perfect, right!? All in all, our Sundays are filled with fun, loved humour with a pinch of wine and laughter. …Nothing to be changed!