SUNDAY...SUNDAY....

          

 It’s Superbowl Sunday and I’m here alone except for my puppy, Kuma. This is perfectly fine and I’m not feeling lonely or depressed, but it has made me reflect on how things have become during my eighty years of life.

          First, there was no Superbowl back when I was a kid. Sundays were family time and if we didn’t eat together as a family at home, we went to grandparents or other family members’ homes for Sunday dinner. It was also Sunday school day and I went regularly, wearing a nice dress and shoes…no jeans or other inappropriate clothing allowed.

          Once I grew up and got married, this didn’t change very much. True, my parents had moved from Seattle, but the expectation was that my husband and I would travel to my parents’ home at least one weekend of the month. When my parents returned to the area, Sunday dinners were no longer the rigorous expectation of the past. Part of that may have been due to the fact John and I had separated.

          In any case, I still saw my parents at least once a week if not more often. They thought nothing of just stopping by my house any day of the week for a visit. And I was welcome to arrive at their place in the same manner. No need to call first. No need to make an appointment to see each other…it just happened.

          Not only were these impromptu visits the norm, but there were also the phone calls. I probably talked to my mother almost every day and my grandmother at least once a week unless my folks were gone and then it was my responsibility to talk to Grandma daily and make sure she was okay. We didn’t have Sunday dinners as had been the habit of years prior, but we did see each other fairly often for coffee and/or meals.

          I don’t know quite when everything changed so very much. It was probably when I/we became so busy with jobs, rearing children, participating in school and sports activities as parents were required to do, but the visits and phone calls began to become less and less over the years. At the time, I didn’t think all that much about it, but my life was busy and the idea of being alone and lonely hadn’t even put in an appearance.

          These days, or make that these years, times have definitely changed from what they were when I was a kid or young adult. I know that this isn’t necessarily true for some of my friends/acquaintances who are in regular contact with their entire families. I’m not sure what I could have done or could do differently to have a family more like those.

          As it is, I send my son an emoji each morning so he knows I survived the day before and the night. He emojis me back. Then, we talk at least once a week, but the phone calls, for the most part, are rather like two strangers talking to each other. There are times when he has information he shares and vice versa, but for the most part, I don’t know how his week(s) went, how his wife is doing and he doesn’t know a lot about how my week(s) developed.

          There have been no conversations with his younger brother since December. I haven’t seen those grandchildren since October or before.

          There are no Sunday dinners or special get-togethers for things like the Superbowl. True, I could issue invitations to my home with the expectation everyone would attend; however, only one son and his family came to my eightieth birthday party last November. It’s not likely an invitation for Sunday dinners, especially on a regular basis, would be welcome.

          Hopefully, as you read this you don’t think I’m depressed or terribly lonely because, for the most part I’m not. I’m doing okay. It’s just the fact that the life I led, that my family led, so many decades ago was so different from my life now. It makes me wonder what the lives of my grandchildren will be like in fifty or sixty years. Will their lives be completely insular? Will they look back as I have at their own youth and think/believe the times were better then?

          Unfortunately, I don’t have a crystal ball with which to view the future. I can only hope that the times change and families return to the wonderful habit of Sunday dinners and more time spent together.