What happened to you? Did you get fired? Are you ill? It’s been awhile since I have seen your quiet old self hanging around, and I miss you.
Since you’ve been gone, and I guess I can’t say for sure when you actually left, I have noticed that there are more cars on the road. The school fields seem to be busier, and the stores are all open. The church parking lot is less full.
I remember the days when we would have to run down to the local grocery store, Champagne’s, and grab a few things for the next day’s dinner. Fearful that we would run out of something before Monday morning, one of my parents would slide in before they closed Saturday evening.
I have also noted that since you bowed out, fast food and eating out seem to have replaced your big, home-cooked dinners that you used to serve up. I can feel everyone sitting around the dining room table eating a meal of roast pork, mashed potatoes, and gravy topped off with a homemade apple pie for dessert. I miss the relaxed manner in which we used to take those meals; all together and slowly.
Instead of lazy afternoons on the porch dozing on the daybed, your hours, Sunday, have been taken up by our egos and their hunger for overachieving. We just keep moving in hopes of getting better … or something like that.
I remember the quietness of your streets and the Sunday drives when we all crammed into the station wagon. We didn’t have a destination, we just went where the road led us for the afternoon. No agenda.
I can’t help but wonder, Sunday, if all of the anxiety and depression that seems to be riddling us now has something to do with your disappearance. Do you think? I wonder if management will address this. I keep hoping.
Maybe if you came back for a few months, we might see a decline in all of that, and you would get your job back?
Instead they have replaced you with busy old Saturday and back-to-work Monday. Frankly, I don’t think they are doing a very good job. There doesn’t seem to be a clear start or stop on either end of their days, and the lines are feeling quite blurred. I am not sure if I am supposed to be working or chasing anymore … so I just do both to try and keep up.
I heard a rumor that you have been seen in some of the European countries. Do they offer a better retirement package? More sick leave? Are they easier to work for? Or maybe they do a better job appreciating you and implementing your tried-and-true strategy of balancing work and life in general.
Sure we catch glimpses of you nowadays … maybe on an unbooked Friday night, or a personal day taken on a Tuesday … but it’s not the same, not regular, not sacred. If only we had known how much we would miss you.
My question is, what would it take to get you back on our team, Sunday?
Do we have to say no to children’s sports activities on your day? What if we shut down the stores and even the movie theater, would you reconsider? And (gulp), if you want to turn off the Wifi, management might agree to that. Their negotiation could be no screen time, except for Sunday afternoon football on the old TV set–in front of the fireplace. Would that work for you, Sunday?
Please consider my plea Sunday … we need you.
It seems that we are all at our wits end here with school shootings, road rage, and pill popping. But I know it’s going to take all of us to get you back, not just me, but many, the entire team.
I miss you Sunday. Truly, deeply, I miss you. Please come back, and help us right this ship around.