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June 23
Family tradition said Sundays were grocery day. We'd pile into the minivan and drive ten minutes down the road to the store to pick up food for the next week.
Remember three years ago, when you "happened" to be there one Sunday with your family, too? Which prompted my parents to invite yours over for dinner.
Your dad said he'd grill hotdogs and mine said he'd do the burgers. Our moms fussed over the appetizers — salad, fruit bowls, and veggie platters. Your little sister whined that she wanted cupcakes for dessert, but my brother wanted brownies.
You said we could have both. Our parents agreed.
Thus a new Sunday tradition was born.
I've lost count of the Sundays that have gone by already, the ones that began with groceries and ended without the chaos of a family barbeque.
I couldn't even tell my parents why.
And they asked. Repeatedly.
They wanted to know why there was no Sunday night barbeque.
Riley wanted to know why there were no hotdogs or fruit bowls or cupcakes.
I told them that traditions can end, and so can friendships.
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