Yesterday as I was driving to work I realized that all my normal stops were closed for the day. I usually get my salad for lunch at Wendy’s and my huge bargain dollar diet coke at McDonalds before I head in to heal the sick.

It was a very odd feeling to look around and see all the stores dark and the parking lots empty.

Then I remembered that growing up everything was closed on Sundays. My mother and grandmother and I would go “to town” on Saturdays. My mother hated to shop but my grandmother Sammie and I weren’t satisfied until we had been to every store and discovered every bargain. We did all the grocery shopping and filled the tank with gas before heading back out to the farm.

Sunday was spent with family and if you forgot to get something on Saturday you had to borrow it from a neighbor. That was back when you knew your neighbors and could run over to their house for a cup of sugar.

Even though I had to wait until I got to work to get my caffeine fix, I had a great drive in remembering when not everything was available to everyone 24 hours a day seven days a week.

I think we could make great strides in this country if we closed stores more often, sat out on the porch a couple of nights a week and got to know our neighbors. Maybe there could be a tax incentive if you could answer five questions about your neighbors. Whatever it takes we have to start slowing down and connecting with each other. We could start with one day a week when everything is closed.