The technical first day of the week has become especially difficult for me as of late. It’s recently come to my attention that the dear ones I spend the majority of my time with spend the majority of their Sundays with their families. I don’t write this in an attempt to gain anyone’s pity nor am I on some sort of woe is me kick but I write this as a form of therapy, really. The end result is that I decided I must figure out something to occupy my Sunday’s, meaning I’m making a true effort to change the less than ideal situation so that my mind is unable to dwell on the unfortunate fact that I do not have family.
That last sentence I write with specifics in mind, as you’ll hear me always reiterate how my family truly is my wonderful circle of friends. Yes, I have aunts, uncles, cousins and one of my grandmothers is still around and this blog is in no way a reflection of the level of importance they hold in my life. When I state, “I do not have family,” I am simply stating that I do not get up on Sunday morning with the knowledge that I am preparing a home cooked meal with my mama and enjoying it at a dining table later that evening. I am saying that I cannot pick up the phone and relay the weekend’s whirlwind of events to her nor can I call my dad up just to say hi. My brother lives a couple of states away but our relationship has never been close thus strengthening the feeling that I do not have family. Sundays are like an endless game of tug of war taking place in the pit of my stomach.
It would be accurate to say that I greatly envy those around me that have the privilege of spending quality time with their blood, their loved ones – no matter how dysfunctional they might be. I often go to an unproductive, though thankfully small, place in my mind that argues the fairness of it all resulting in unwanted and unnecessary anger. I don’t linger there for long because I’m sincerely happy for my friends that are still able to share valuable moments with their families. I would never wish this kind of loss on anyone, though perhaps the oddest recognition of this entire issue is that I am grateful for all I have endured, for the extraordinary loss. I am grateful because I suddenly understand beyond fathomable reason that I am precisely where I am supposed to be, conducting my life the way I am intended for, even if that means sans family and lonely on any given Sunday.