Growing up, Sunday afternoons and evenings were spent slurping soups, inhaling homemade hamburgers, twirling spaghetti, and devouring tacos with my big family at my parents house. My cousins (who at times felt more like siblings) and I would play in the muggy evenings of the southern summer until we covered in a layer of sticky sweat. We played flag football and capture the flag----we would catch fireflies and challenge each other to intense games of foursquare. At some point one of the aunts or uncles would venture out of the house to wrangle us in for supper. Inside there was a large buffet of food and we would naturally form the familial assembly line--smallest kids first, then Grandma and Grandpa, then the rest of the kids, then aunts and uncles. Laughter was everywhere. Pure love radiated throughout the wooden walls and seeped out through the windows. Every year when summer begins to dwindle and the promise of a cooler tomorrow settles into a reality, I miss it. I miss the love. Even though is hasn't left, it's different. Family is farther and I am older. With autumn brings nostalgia and I am a sucker for a little nostalgia. But now, that I have my own little family, it's time to begin a new kind of Sunday afternoon. One that creates the kind of memories my daughter will remember with a wistful smile and a sigh full of nostalgia.