Sunday Funday

There's something to be said for tradition.   For years, it was the norm to have businesses close on Sundays.    Sporting events didn't happen.   Families gathered together for big Sunday meals.   Sunday was a day for fun, for family, and faith.

Somewhere along the way, before I was really aware of the world around me, that changed.  Sunday became a day that looked just like any other - full of activities, errands, and things to do.  For many families (my own included, during some seasons of our life), Sunday became the day to catch up on things and chores took precedence over family gatherings.

We're at a point in our lives now that most weekends, our Sundays can return to the "fun, family, and faith" model.   There are a few exceptions - like when the kids have been sick and Mike has been working and the only day I have that I can get to a grocery store, sans kids (since they're sick), has been Sunday - but most weekends, our Sundays are full of relaxation and fun.  

We head to mass, and then have a small "family" gathering at our house for brunch.   The rest of the day is usually filled with naps (sometimes for an adult, too!), time spent outside playing, and reading and movies inside.   As I type this, Mike is napping, the little ones are playing in the living room, and the big ones are outside playing in the snow.   The house is quiet and calm.   

There is some wisdom to be found in preserving a day of the week like this.   Keeping it separate from the mundane tasks that fill up the other 6 days of the week.   Life is unpredictable, and it's hard to make it happen regularly for many of us (especially those of us who are married to someone who works a fluctuating schedule, or work one ourselves), but my gosh, I don't know how I'd survive without these slow days now.   

There's peace in the quiet.  Joy in the relaxed laughter.   Newfound energy in the calm.

We start the week feeling recharged, and connected to each other.

I'm grateful for the opportunity to set Sundays aside and to return to the tradition of years past.    There's strength there, enough to carry me through the "busyness" of life.

Sometimes traditions deserve to be resurrected.