Sunday = Solitude


My great-aunt Alice never married, and only one of her two siblings had a child – my father. So my father was spoiled by his mother’s side of the family and had the opportunity to visit his aunt Alice at her Bronx apartment numerous times. He recalled that she hummed to herself, which he thought was odd.

I wonder what Dad would think of my asking Amazon’s Alexa to play Bruno Mars and dancing through the house. I haven’t started humming, but there have been occasional self-directed comments  Every night I still pat Rick’s pillow and tell him, “I love you.” Are my behaviors peculiar as well?

Usually the Monday through Friday workweek is chockfull of appointments, exercise and social outings. Even Saturdays I either bicycle or dragon boat paddle — and now that Rick’s beloved Florida Gators have begun their football season there’s games to be watched!

When Sunday finally rolls around, it frequently is a quiet day of solitude. I often don’t talk to anyone the entire day, although there’s the usual typed communications on social media. I may sleep a bit later, do laundry, read the paper and putter around the house. I now have three writing gigs (including this blog) so it is also a nice time to put my fingers to the keyboard.

Yet I feel trapped by the busyness of my new life — and I’m the one who created this craziness! It is time for a reset. I need to determine what activities I want to keep, what ought to go and what else I might add.  A few solitary Sundays should bring clarity.

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