Years ago, when I started writing and joined the blogging community, the subject matter was so much more…lighthearted. For the most part. When I developed my own website, it wrapped itself around my unfinished book which is a collection of memories of dealing with my later mother’s battle with dementia. 

That…has come full circle. 

Writing, to me, is about growth, about not marginalizing oneself into focusing on a single topic, day in and day out. Let’s face it, we all have opinions and so much more to say…about everything. Blogging provides that platform, almost a stage where we perform through what we write. 

Within the past two, or more years, my overall “tone” has developed an edge of sorts. Chalk it up to the pandemic, just like everyone else does, it seems. And now, with the current world turmoil, and all that goes along with that touchy subject, it’s quite difficult to sit down and put together some rambling words that spout sunshine, rainbows and lollipops. 

But then a good friend tagged me in a Facebook post, and it made me stop and think about good times, and friendships. And breakfasts on Sunday mornings. 

It all started well over one year ago with friends from a club The Husband and I belong to here where we live. Outside of that domain, several of us have gathered for long walks and meet just about every week at a great spot here in Carmel for breakfast. We call ourselves the Breakfast Club (of course) and we have our own spot in the upstairs part of George’s where at least ten or more of us sit in the same seats, week after week. We share and vent about life’s injustices from the days before or those ahead of us. From one end of the huge table to the other, idiotic YouTube videos and Memes are shared while we talk politics on all levels. Of course, there’s a bit of gossip to be had and we laugh like hell, sometimes so loud that our waitress, Karen, shuts the upstairs level door so we don’t disturb others. (Some of us, no names mentioned, can be a tad…loud.)

Positive friendships have blossomed and, in that, a respect for our differences along with support for the personal or family medical issues some have on their plate. And, speaking of plates…each week the breakfast orders range from oatmeal with blueberries, eggs over easy with a side of hash browns, stacks of pancakes, cheese omelets over corned beef hash (with a side of rye toast), waffles smothered with apples and whipped cream and… coffee, lots and lots of coffee.   Did I mention…” please pass the hot sauce”? Yup, that and ketchup. 

Each Sunday morning ends with gentle hugs outside the restaurant and we make our way into one more week. And we smile and wave as each of us drives away, knowing we’ll get to do it all over again in just a few more days.