That Sunday feeling

What’s wrong with me?
It’s been 80 years since I was made to go to Sunday school. It’s been around 76 years since Daddy beat me into going to church.
I am married to the perfect man for me. I love having friends over. I love making people feel welcome and special.
But I still get “that Sunday feeling.”
I do not like going to church.
It seems to me that church is either a bunch of screaming, dancing, yelling, emotional humans—
Or staid preachers passing the wine and crackers.
Neither appeals to me.
So I sit on the porch and appreciate the sunshine—or the rain—and find my own little bit of Sunday…
without the smell of mothballs.

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