Remember watching “The Andy Griffith” show?

There would be certain episodes centered around days just spent sitting around on the front porch.

And during these episodes, some weeks we would encounter moments where Andy was playing his guitar.

Then once in a while, there was talk of making homemade ice cream.

We watched as everyone — including friends and neighbors — gathered around that dining room table, eating a home-cooked meal which Aunt Bee surely spent the entire day preparing.

Other weeks, we would watch as Andy and Opie spent the morning fishing.

Then there were times we saw Helen and Andy trying to have a quiet picnic lunch together. Of course, it was always interrupted.

Needless to say, it was during all of these moments when it seemed as if the entire town of Mayberry just stopped whatever they were doing … and lived.

No, it was never a holiday. Nor was it a special occasion.

It was simply a Sunday.

The family had gone to church together and then went home to do nothing except play that guitar, eat their meal with one another and enjoy each others’ company.

All of these episodes are small reminders of how just decades ago, people respected the Sabbath.

Through the repeats, we can see that even Otis, the town drunk, took Sundays off from being imprisoned.

Back then, everyone wasn’t in such a rush.

And when I say back then, well, it was just a matter of a little more than 50 years ago.

A couple of blinks.

There were no stores open.

Gomer and Goober weren’t at the garage working on an automobile from someone who was from out of town either.

Everyone took that day to just be in the company of the ones they loved.

Why?

Because Sundays used to be about family.

They were about spending time with friends and neighbors.

Do we even know our neighbors today?

Sundays used to mean something. They were a day of rest.

Does anyone else remember that?

I can recall moments growing up and certain places would be closed.

Restaurants, malls, banks.

Today, almost everywhere operates as if it is a weekday.

We might even forget it’s a Sunday if we are on the schedule to work.

When did we start working again on the one day of the week God specifically told us is a day of rest?

Heck, we can go out to eat and stop by the mall after visiting the bank’s drive thru if we want.

And we do … because it is 2025, not 1961.

I’ve seen deliveries made to peoples’ homes on a Sunday.

There was even a time when alcohol wasn’t sold on the Sabbath.

The world became too busy, and people, too ambitious, to live as they did during the days of Andy Griffith.

I can recall every Sunday going to church and then having lunch or dinner with my entire family.

But after my grandparents died, things changed.

Today, my son brings my grandson to my mom’s house every Sunday. We have an early dinner/late lunch, and get to spend time with the baby.

It’s important for little Layne to grow up around a dinner table — something not too many families do anymore.

And if you do, good for you.

Last Sunday, I had the honor of spending the morning babysitting little Layne.

I usually refer to him as the baby, even though I am well aware he is no longer a baby, as he is almost 2 1/2.

I blinked.

And even though he doesn’t really talk just yet — except for a few select words which you have to pay close attention to because it isn’t very clear, I distinctly heard him tell me that he loved me.

It actually made me cry, as they were the most beautiful words I have ever heard.

“Love you,” he told me as I was walking out the door.

It was a special moment I will always remember.

I ordered McDonald’s for us and took him back home where he patiently waited in his little chair at his table in the living room. I brought him his food served on a Bluey plate, and sat down next to him with mine.

We carried on quite a nice conversation, even though his was in a foreign language I couldn’t really understand. I agreed with whatever he was telling me though. I can’t let him think I don’t understand what he is saying. It sounds as if it is very important.

He tries so hard that it breaks my heart. But I can’t disappoint him and keep saying “what?”

I would die before I ever disappointed him.

Whenever I got up for something, he would steal my seat and start to eat my food and drink my frappe, as if he were Goldilocks.

As we sat there, he would look over to the television every once in a while. And that was alright. I know I am not enough to keep his interest for an entire meal.

But as I watched my 2-year-old grandson sit and eat his breakfast with his grandma, I knew what Sundays were all about.

They are about time spent with the ones we love the most.

Whatever was going on outside of that window … it didn’t matter.

Whatever crisis was being televised on national news coverage … well, that wasn’t my concern right then.

Because in that one small moment in time, it was just me and Layne. And all was right with the world.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt that way before. Content.

And yes, I know the day will come when he doesn’t want to spend time with his grandma anymore.

In his eyes, I will be considered too old and not cool.

He will find me clueless to the way the world works. I will be someone who has no idea what it is like to have been young.

To him, I will just be that old lady who buys him birthday and Christmas presents each year.

But at least for now, I am blessed that I can have these small, quiet moments when it is just him and me.

And I will always remember the day when we shared a brunch on a Sunday.

(Stenger is the community editor for the Herald-Star and The Weirton Daily Times newspapers. She can be contacted at jstenger@heraldstaronline.com.)