When I was growing up, I can remember that Sundays were the day when our extended family would all come together at either our house or that of one of my aunts and uncles. Big meals were made, and there were so many fun times...indoors or out...depending on the weather and the season at the time.
To chase away my Sunday blues.
After my mother died when I was 16, things changed...Sundays changed. Gone were the family get-togethers...the closeness...the essence of family I had grown up with.
As I grew into motherhood and watched my children grow into adulthood, my hopes were that maybe we could restart that Sunday tradition of getting together for a good home-made meal, and sharing our lives, laughter and keeping the essence of family intact.
For the first few years that my oldest two were on their own, we did get together at my oldest son's for one of his wonderful home-made meals, usually on a Sunday but even that ended with his arrest and eventual prison sentence.
Since then...our family has drifted even further apart...and Sundays are just another day of the week. There is nothing special about it anymore.
For me...it's hard. And oftentimes...lonely.
Phone calls and text messages really aren't enough...