Brunch on Fridays

A hearty sampling of my life and lessons I have learned along the way once a week.

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Photo by Michael Bae on Unsplash

I absolutely adore brunch. It’s literally the best of breakfast and lunch. I have a thing for brinner (breakfast for dinner) as well, but brunch is where it’s at. Something about it just takes me back to the days of my youth when I would sit in my grandma’s kitchen and listen to her tell stories about your childhood. Growing up without many friends I spent a lot of time with my grandparents. They didn’t mind. I didn’t either. As far as I was concerned they were the best company I could ever have.

I was still a kid though and this meant that sleepovers at their house fell on the weekends and there’s no way I was waking up in time for breakfast. By the time I emerged from the room it was close to lunch, but I could still smell traces of what they ate for breakfast swirling with what they were making for lunch.

I’d hop on down the hall, announce myself when I made it to the kitchen, and pile a plate high with pancakes, bacon, eggs, and sit in the in microwave as I waited for lunch to finish being prepared. And then I would pile whatever my grandma made for lunch onto my plate as well.

I really thought I was doing something.

I really thought I was creating something unique and special.

I was just doing what many were doing on their Sundays after church…

having brunch.

Talk about a bubble burst.

But brunch for me was beyond food, it was the conversations that surrounded those meals. It was the mixture of the sweet and savory bites of yummy goodness that blessed my tongue and filled my belly but it was also the pieces of sickly sweet stories my grandparents would share. It was the telling of how our week went. And the forecasting of what was to come. The sharing of our plans and goals. The recitation of our dreams.

All over chicken, waffles, syrup, eggs…

I wanted to recreate my own little version of that in this space. And in my life. My grandparents are no longer with me. I ache for that piece that’s missing where they once were. But I find calm in telling my own stories, my own plans, my own dreams over syrupy sweet breads and savory meats. Everything about it reminds me of them. And everything about it reminds me of who I am.

Every Friday, I am going to share newsletters that encompass all that went on in the previous week. I will share stories that helped me get through those past seven days. Stories that might help me through the next seven. Poems that serve as the pulse of who I am at this moment of time in my life. What worked for me that week. And what didn’t. Pictures that made me smile. I am a writer who hasn’t done much writing lately and I am missing every bit of it. Brunch on Fridays is me trying to find my way back to me.

Brunch on Fridays will always be free for everyone.