Sunday, Time to Reflect and Reconnect
Sundays have a rhythm all their own. They mark both an ending and a beginning, a soft pause before the rush of another week. Depending on the season, they can be a doorway to something new or a gentle reminder to wrap up what’s unfinished.
When I was working full-time, I’ll admit, Sunday nights were my least favorite. No matter how productive I tried to be, the day always slipped away too quickly. By bedtime, I’d feel that familiar twinge of dread. Monday was waiting, and I wasn’t ready to meet it.
As a kid, Sundays had a very different flavor. The day began with church. I loved getting dressed up and sitting with my mom and sisters, listening to the sermon and wondering how it applied to me. Afterward, we’d change into comfy clothes, and Dad would settle into his red recliner for the “game of the day.” Football, baseball, golf, he loved them all. Before long, his interest would give way to a nap, and we’d hear the familiar sound of soft snores coming from his chair.
Dinner was always something special, usually a roast with all the fixings. My sister Sandy and I were the cleanup crew. I cleared the table; she washed the dishes. I can still hear us teasing each other across the kitchen:
“I’m rubber and you’re glue, whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you!”
It didn’t solve anything, but it made us laugh.
Afternoons often ended with a nap that turned into a panic when I remembered I still had homework waiting. Sundays were full, but not exactly restful.
Now that I’m retired, Sundays feel different. They’re less stressful, but still busy. I’ve traded homework for to-do lists. There are always bills to pay, lessons to catch up on, weeds to pull, and books waiting to be read. Somehow, the reading always gets pushed to the bottom.
Maybe it’s time to challenge myself to make Sundays a little more joyful, less about finishing and more about feeling. I think I’ve become a bit of a homebody, but you know what? That’s not all bad. My dog seems to think it’s perfect. She’s spoiled, opinionated, and full of requests, and honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Maybe that’s what Sundays are really about, learning to be content exactly where you are.
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