Deep struggles on Sunday.

 

-Gayle Oshrin

Several months ago, I wrote about Sundays. People describe Sunday as Sunday FUN-day. For me, it isn't quite that. At all. It is not a great day for me typically. That sounds negative and I don't mean for it to sound that way. I am just being honest and open about the struggles that plague me more typically on Sundays than on other days. It is an end. It is a day I feel the anticipatory anxiety of what is to come. I feel restless and less grounded. I am not comfortable and I don't feel settled. I feel behind. I feel a sense of loss more on Sunday than on any other day. As the day wears on, I become more and more quiet, withdrawn. Simply put, it is not a fun day for me. Or probably for those around me!

When I was growing up, Sunday dinner was always a highlight. When we would visit family in New Jersey (a frequent occasion) we would often stay for Sunday dinner at my grandparents' house. Looking back, that was always a special night. An evening we were together as family. Sharing a meal, some laughs, with sports in the background on tv, crowded into one room piled on top of one another. It was always the same meal. Tradition and constant. I didn't appreciate that time as much as I do now, but even then I knew it was special. What I wouldn't do for just one more of those Sunday meals. 

Today I am sad. 

I am just very sad. 

This is the last Sunday with Sage home. She has spent the weekend saying goodbye to her friends. Not one to cry often, when tears form in her eyes, it crushes my heart into pieces. She has been very quietly and diligently packing for her next adventure. We leave on Thursday night for Ohio. Ohio State University is about to be changed forever. Sorry, I am still learning. The Ohio State University is about to be changed forever.  I am very excited to watch what she is able to do in this world. Oh the places she will go. She is ready to soar and spread her strong wings.

While this is just the beginning for her, it is an end for me. I know, I know. It is a beginning for me too. But, is it? So much of my life has been lived. Lived well. Lived beautifully. In the complex and messy way that life is meant to be. But nevertheless, lived. So, my baby leaving the nest is a loss. A loss of youth. A loss of identity. A loss of knowing. A loss of being. A loss of what was to be. A loss of what never was. A loss of what was, too. 

I seek connection. I always have. I have done many things in the name of connection, with the knowledge that I will at times be rejected. That is difficult to admit, especially publicly. Out loud. With this part of my life ending for now, my life becomes less tethered, less connected. 

So what do I do with all of this?  

I let myself feel these things. I do not push them away. I acknowledge that by allowing myself these emotions, it adds to my healing. It adds to my strength. It adds to my life experience. The key I think is to recognize them for what they are. Emotions. Feelings. They are but a part of me, not the whole me. At my spine, my backbone, is me. Finding space, finding room. When the absence grows and the emptiness begins to creep in, I seek space. I seek a new understanding. I seek new possibilities. I seek a deeper meaning. A deeper connection within. And I smile. I laugh. 

I remember that this life is a gift. It is fleeting and can change in a single moment. I need to appreciate the here, the now, the moment, the present. I push away the self-loathing that sometimes finds me and I look at the beauty in the world. Celebrate the differences and appreciate the similarities we all share. 

I stay open. I wear my heart on my sleeve so that no one ever feels alone. So that people know it is okay to be vulnerable and strong at the same time. To know that we are all human, we all feel, and we are all in this together even if our individual journeys take us down different paths. And, we never stop growing. Even at the end, there is always a new beginning. Always.

Time to put on Clarity by Vance Joy and let's keep living!

Choose kindness. Every gesture counts. Peace and love always.