August 23, 2013


This morning in the span of  twenty minutes I asked two people what they were having for breakfast. (Both sounded equally delicious, ham and egg sandwich and Wildflower. YUMMY). 

That was when I realized breakfast is a large part of my story. 

I was raised with the idea that breakfast with the most important meal of the day. My mother would make all five of us kids breakfast before school. Biscuits, pancakes, waffles, eggs, or oatmeal would be set in front of me. My siblings and I would fight over the last bottom of the biscuit (that is the best part).  Only on Sundays would we have muffins and Malt-o-Meal. And only on Saturdays would we go out for breakfast at Tj's. 

Over the years some of those traditions have changed. But, one thing does remain, the importance of breakfast. I can't really eat pancakes anymore or really enjoy waffles. But, put a bowl of oatmeal with banana and a cup of coffee in front of me and I am one happy girl. I could eat that every day (o, wait I pretty much do). 

But, I don't think it is the food that makes breakfast so special. I think it's starting the day off with the people you love most. The conversations held over eggs over easy and dry wheat toast are priceless. Sometimes, there isn't conversation, but quiet moments, while my dad reads the sports section, my mom reads the home section, and I read the comics. Just being together before we all go our own ways makes the first meal unique. Ever since I left for college I hold the memories of breakfast with my parents closer to my heart. It is the first thing on my list to do with them when they come into town. 

When I first started dating my man I was pleasantly surprised he shared the same love for breakfast as I did. One of the first times we went out was a run and breakfast date. Now, months later, we have continued the Saturday morning tradition. This summer has been filled with Saturday morning breakfast dates. We always try to go somewhere new, even if it is a little drive. I even got to make him my mom's biscuits and he liked them (phew, I was kind of nervous about that). 

There are so many other memories I have about breakfast. With my sister, friends, or even by myself. I am thankful my mother showed me (maybe without knowing it) why the first meal of the day is important. 

So for any person out there who doesn't get up to enjoy a early morning meal with someone special. I encourage you to. Or, if you are living with roommates, make a cup of community coffee. Drink it with them, discuss the day with them, or just be quiet with them. It really will start the day off better. 

1 comment:

  1. Problem: in order to eat breakfast, you'd have to get up early. That's the part I don't like :)

    Miss you V. Love your blog, as always!