What does everyone do now on Sunday afternoon?  We used to all gather together and eat Sunday dinner.  My mother cooked Sunday dinner for years and years.  And when she no longer could do that anymore, I did it.

Probably twenty five or thirty years I did that.  But my oldest three children grew up and left, and there was only me and Ken, mother and dad, and Jonathan for nine years after the others were gone.   I had to learn to cook for five instead ten to twelve--there were always friends at the table.

Jonathan grew up, joined the Navy and mom and dad both went to be with God, so it was just Ken and me.  And sadly, nobody carried on that Sunday tradition.

So on Sundays after church, I eat a sandwich most of the time.  I miss getting together with the family to hear how their week went.  Those times were full of talk and laughter.  I miss it.

We've lost something.  It makes me sad.  And since most of the churches stopped having Sunday evening services, Sunday has become a long day with nowhere to go and nothing to do.  It's a good day to read a book.  

Now I write.  A month ago, I finished my second book and started on a third.  It is about Ken's life.  I found pages I must have written back in the seventies.  Ken had to have been talking to me about flight school, because I know nothing about what I have written down on those pages.  I don't remember writing it.  Every SNJ, T28, F-9 and on an on.  Different squadrons.  There is no way I could write about this now if I hadn't written all of that down back then.

Why did I write it?  I have no idea.  But I am so thankful I did.  They are his memories, not mine.  The pages are invaluable.  Priceless to me.