After Mass Daddy took us all to the bakery, a Sunday tradition, where everyone clamored for our favorite goodies. The little ones liked to pull the ticket from the machine and we all waited eagerly to hear our number called. I'm sure the bakery owner LOVED seeing us coming! We exited in triumph with bags and boxes of powdered jelly and glazed doughnuts, elephant ears, assorted danish (cheese were my favorite), crullers and cinammon twists, and something chocolate. Each of us could have three choices for breakfast - talk about a sugar high! But we all loved it and looked forward to the Sunday bakery run. To this day, a powdered, raspberry filled doughnut triggers childhood nostalgia.
Sunday was always a quiet day. Daddy liked to put opera on the phonograph and I learned to love the Grand March from Aida, Maguerite's Jewel Song from Faust, and all the wonderful music from Carmen and Pagliacci. Daddy was a wonderful pianist, the son of a church organist. One of the first purchases my parents made in the early years of marriage was a refurbished grand piano. I used to sit on the bench and sing (in English) some of the opera songs(certainly not with an operatic voice!). I still have Daddy's opera book much taped together, and sometimes I sit and play (badly) some of the music I heard in my childhood sitting next to Daddy on the piano bench. What happy times they were. Thanks, Mom and Dad, for those lovely Sundays and those lovely childhood memories.