Ain't no Sunshine when she's gone...

Late Breakfast
It's strange how a smell or a sound can take you back so quickly to some of your favorite memories. Last night was one of those moments where I sat around the table with J, S, and Mea and while we enjoyed our own conversation and there was this single second where my sister and I looked at each other and it was obvious that we were thinking the same thing.

When we were kids several times over the course of our childhoods we would eat late breakfast for dinner. The house would be warm with light mocking the darkness of night and the kitchen would filter smells of pancakes throughout the entire house. We would sit there at 10 sometimes 11pm, way past all of our bedtimes, and eat pancakes - all just to go to bed on a full tummy. Last night sitting around that table the smells of the pancakes filtered through the apartment and it brought back a familiarity as well as a sweet sadness of a void J and I look to each other to fill.

Perfect. Really.