"That's what I love about Sunday: Sing along as the choir sways; every verse of Amazin' Grace, an' then we shake the Preacher's hand. Go home, into your blue jeans; have some chicken an' some baked beans. Pick a back yard football team, not do much of anything: That's what I love about Sunday." — Craig Morgan, "That's What I Love About Sunday"

To me, Sundays mean all of these things. This song gives me flashbacks, makes me feel good every time I hear it, and makes me wish sometimes that I was back in my childhood.

Growing up, I was fortunate enough to grow up in a supporting, loving church family. I would go every single Sunday and would go to Sunday School after the church service was over. I always looked forward to church and Sunday School, but overall, Sundays meant something else too. It meant after church I would find myself out at my grandparents' house. I would hop in the car with my Gram or in the truck with my Grampo and they would take my brother and me out to their house. We'd make sure to bring a change of clothes and some tennis shoes, because spending a day on the farm meant a day of adventure.

Whether it was helping with farm chores, playing checkers at their kitchen table, or running around the yard with their dog Bo, my grandparents' house was never boring. I always had a blast no matter what. On days it was warm, four wheeler rides were given, softball was played in the front yard, and walks were taken. Every Sunday was a great time.

Softball games were a time for imagination, considering we had to make up our own bases. The bases usually consisted of a tree and patches in the yard where grass was worn. Checkers was usually followed by me being a sore loser because my brother showed no mercy, always beating me. When checkers got to that point, my Gram would suggest that the three of us play Go-Fish instead. We'd all take walks to a small bridge and spend some time exploring, enjoying all of the simple things in life.

Not only could I expect endless adventures, but I could also count on Sunday dinners. Mac and cheese was always made for me, accompanied by mashed potatoes, some type of vegetable, and some type of meat. This wasn't just a once in a while thing, this was an every Sunday occurrence. During lunch, we would always listen to the country countdown, picking out our favorite songs for that week.

Some of the best Sundays were when we'd get a phone call after church from one of my aunts, telling us that they and my cousins were headed up to my grandparents' for the day. The more the merrier on the farm.

The worst part of Sundays was when I'd have to go home to do my homework, meaning that my day of fun was coming to an end and that the new week was about to start. If I could've lived in my day of fun forever I would've back then. I enjoyed it so much.

Now that I'm in college two hours away from home I definitely don't get to spend a lot of time out at their house and that saddens me. I wish more than anything sometimes that it was the old days again when my Sundays consisted of going to church, bringing comfy clothes and tennis shoes, and getting to experience new adventures.

I now am experiencing adventures from two hours away and my Gram texts me every single Sunday to let me know the country countdown for that week. Although I wish I could be there every Sunday like I used to, I know that life changes and we grow up, but our memories are what remain constant.

So whenever I'm missing my old Sunday tradition, I just pull up the song "That's What I Love About Sunday" and think about all of the warm filled memories of running around the yard, riding four wheelers, going up to the barn to try and find the newest barn kittens, sitting on the porch swing, eating amazing meals, and just enjoying life on the farm.

That's what I love about Sunday.