Something about Sundays

Reflections on family life and motherhood

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Sunday’s have always felt so sacred to me. Growing up, my hard working parents who immigrated from Vietnam to America worked everyday. The hustle that stemmed from the drive to survive as they were living through poverty in Vietnam never left them. Every day, from 9 AM in the morning to 7 PM at night they worked.

But not on Sundays.

On Sundays, I would wake up to the sound of dishes clanking in the sink and the oh-so fragrant smell of my mom’s Pho that had been simmering for 18+ hours throughout the day and night. My favorite part was going to brush my teeth then making my way out to the kitchen in my pajamas to hug my mom while she put a bowl together for us for breakfast. While we finished slurping her homemade delightful, decadent bone broth clean, feeling the warmth in our bellies and the love in our hearts— my dad would have the karaoke system set up and my mom would sing. Vietnamese music playing in the background, hearty food, and togetherness was the kind of house I grew up in.

I felt the warmth of those days back then but I would never know just how special they truly were. I remember them like I lived them yesterday. Since moving to Florida, we have been making an annual trip up to New York for the entire summer. This summer we’re staying at my mom’s house. She’s away in Vietnam currently but it’s been nostalgic being her space. Even though it’s an entirely different house in an entirely different state — the feeling of it brings me back to my childhood. My 14 month old found a karaoke mic in my mom’s entertainment center and brought it over to me on the couch. I started belting out loud random songs then passed the mic back to her as she started to sing too. Before we knew it, we were passing the mic back and forth, singing sweet Sunday morning melodies until she was no longer entertained and walked away to find another somethin’ to play with 😆

We decided that our mother’s day gift to my mom was going to be to renovate her balcony and surprise her before she comes back from her trip. We finished with the renovation and got to enjoy spending time on it. The sun was warming our backs while the birds were singing. I had a frothy cup of matcha in hand and soaked up the fresh spring air. We opened up more windows, let the air circulate and did a deep clean on the house while our daughter napped. I love lighting up incense, playing some hand pan music in the background and get into cleaning mode on a Sunday. I love that it sets us up for the week ahead. It makes us feel inspired when we don’t have clutter or messes or the stain on the white rug that our dog Brody spilled when he bit into a packet of Korean powdered tea calling for our attention. Our attention gets to go into precious places that nurture our creativity, our well-being, our finances and our work.

Later on, we made our way to my favorite park in Saratoga and filled up on water at the springs. The way my body feels when I sip on that Saratoga spring water weeeeee you betcha bottom dollar I am moaning out loud all kinds of joyous praises. I thirst for it even more when I’m in the scorching heat of the Florida sunshine. We spent the next couple hours sticking our feet into the streams, collecting rocks, and hiking through the same trails we've hiked over fifty times before and could never get tired of. We inhaled the smell of the pine trees like it was our ecstasy and wow, how invigorating! It’s always interesting when you revisit places you’ve been. Your mind will reminisce on all the memories you made there and you’re reminded of how much you’ve grown since then. My husband and I shared a few laughs as we recalled on those days when we used to live near this park.

After a lot of walking, we were ready to get back home for me to make dinner. I made a salmon dish with a coconut cream base earlier in the week and my husband loved it so much he requested the same meal again. As I was cooking in the kitchen and singing to the food I was making, I felt pure content. A moment of — I’m exactly where I am supposed to be right now. I could hear the sound of my husband and daughter playing together in the background. Cooking is my peace, my meditation, my solace and I now know where I get it from.

The warmth of the Sundays when my mom would prepare us a hearty meal in a clean house never left me. And now with each dish I hand wash, each meal I make, I pass on that love on to a family of my own. I wonder if my mom ever knew the impact of what those seemingly mundane days had on me when she was living in them. I may forget what toys they bought for me, what kind of clothes they bought me, what kind of places they brought me. But I will never forget the love I felt especially on those slow and sacred Sundays.

So on days when I could easily think to myself that I’m folding another shirt, washing another dish or making another meal, I will remember that I have another opportunity. Another opportunity to do what I do with so much love that one day, my daughter will look back on these seemingly ordinary, mundane days and she will remember them the most. She will feel the love and she will pass it down to her children.

Now I’m thinking, I just need to learn how to make mama’s bowl of pho.

Everywhere I go, her pho is unmatched so it’s going to an undertaking.

I’ll report back when I accomplish this.

I hope you enjoyed your Sunday and I hope this serves as a reminder that your every day moments are simply another opportunity to give all the love you have inside — give it a place to go.

Warmly,