Sunday Dinner, Minus One

Michael's family has the glorious tradition of eating together on Sundays. They let me come, even though I don't eat meat which force them to make a veggie-friendly alternatives. It's one of my favorite parts of the week and one of the things I miss the very most when I'm away at school. Each Sunday I get to play with Michael's nieces and nephews and chat with his family. I love it.

 

I was driving home from Michael's parent's house today and thinking about how silly Sunday dinner will seem without Stephen. Who's going to ride the longboard, dish out the food, and beat the children at videogames? Stephen and I are somewhat different...I admit, but we both like to beat Micheal up and that's a special bond indeed. The first time I came to eat dinner at Michael's, Michael failed to mention my vegetarian status. Stephen jumped up and made instant mashed potatoes. That might sound like a little thing, but it sort of felt like "welcome to the family" to me and meant a lot. He's going on an LDS mission to England. I think he'll be top-notch, lovely, bloody brilliant and all those other British expressions.

 

He'll be gone for two years, with a few calls home on Mother's Day and Christmas, some emails, and letters as the only means of communication. I have to say that I've known some people who just stumbled into going on a mission, since it's part of their culture and family tradition, but Stephen's too independent to stumble into anything and I respect that about him. I'm glad he's going for the right reason and I'm glad that he'll be forced to give me a bang-up tour of England someday when I can afford it.

 

(I took this sneaky picture at Christmas of the boys and their mom. It's not the most artistic photo I've ever taken, but the three of them were walking in a line while Michael talked with his hands, Becky laughed, and Stephen smiled and shook his head at whatever ridiculous thing Michael said--that pretty much sums up their relationship.) 

I thought I'd gotten good at missing people, but I guess not. I know you won't have a chance to read this before you hop on a plane, with your name tag and all, but dinner won't be the same without you Stephen--and who's going to do this to Michael?

Note: this is after three minutes of fighting, which was edited due to Michael's somewhat unseemly language. Also, it was a few years ago and Stephen was in a "texting phase."