When I was growing up in New York, my dad, the earliest riser in the house, would drive to the deli to buy kaiser rolls, and the Sunday editions of the New York Times and the Daily News every week. If we were lucky, he would be in a good mood and buy us sugar coated jelly rolls and cook up a pound of bacon, as well.
In Berkeley forty years later, I am the first one up Saturday mornings. I quietly slip out door and give myself a half hour of time alone in the car in some scenic spot to gaze out the window and enjoy the quiet solitude. Then, I head over to a local bakery where I wait in line to purchase fresh round buns and cinnamon currant bread with walnuts to bring home to my son and my partner.
What simple routine acts from your youth leave you with memories of feeling loved and nurtured? In what little ways do you show others you love them?
Photos by the author.
