Inspirational Thoughts

Another Long and Quiet Sunday and I Miss…

Sunday. Some Sundays tug at the deepest emptiness in my heart. Not every Sunday. But when those long and quiet Sundays drag on, I can feel the tears building behind my eyes. That’s the me I hide behind a smile when I am with others. I’ve perfected the smile as part of the widow’s mask.

It has been 7 years, 3 months and 15 days since my hubby’s soul went to heaven. Not a day, hour, or minute goes by that I don’t miss him. Most days I keep busy and bury the sad thoughts with happy activities. I am blessed to have family and good friends. Jesus is my daily companion. So, why this long and quiet Sunday?

Ah, those good old Sundays when hubby and I would have brunch after church and then head to a little fish joint to enjoy a senior dinner together where we met new friends and often reunited with old ones. Life was fuller then. We had each other for company. We shared hugs. We kissed. We loved. And then he was gone.

The reality of living alone settled on me and oh, how I struggled to find a new normal. I’m not sure I’ve found it yet. What my days consist of are hours of keeping hands and mind busy so the absence of voices isn’t the loudest thing in my home.

Perhaps the blessing is that I’ve always been a bit of an introvert. Never enjoyed the party scene or being in a crowd of acquaintances and strangers. I much prefer a smaller, intimate group of friends. With the pandemic, it has been a plus that I’m used to living alone. But, those long, quiet Sundays emphasize I’m alone with my thoughts.

I miss my family. The impromptu drop-ins, the conversations, the smiles, the hugs, the love. Have you ever felt alone in the midst of family? Have you ever hurried to pick up your mobile phone when you hear a text come through hoping it is a contact from a family member? Have you ever tried to explain you don’t mind living alone, but miss the company of others? Sigh.

But God…

When I’m feeling Satan tap on the lonely part of my heart, I can find comfort from God. I pick up my Bible and read. I pray. I shed tears.

And I blog . . . because it is a long, quiet Sunday and I miss . . . voices.

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