The Sunday Rule

Perhaps you are considering a winter vacation, maybe an escape from ice and snow or winter gloom to a glorious spot in the sun. 

Prior to retirement, most of my vacations were the one-week variety. They played out as follows: 

 Saturday/Sunday: Pack up and leave; arrive, unpack, and settle in.

 Monday/Tuesday: Bask in the glory of a carefree and well-deserved break. 

Wednesday/Thursday: Suddenly realize the vacation’s half over. Attempt to ignore melancholy feelings triggered by a break that’s headed toward the finish line.

Friday-Saturday: Obligations and deadlines begin to resurface. Start wrapping things up to leave and travel home. 

Sunday: The vacation is in the rearview mirror. Monday morning obligations loom large.

Einstein was right: time is relative. Work drags on, but vacations travel at warp speed.  Strangely, life plays out the same way:

Birth through early twenties:  Prepare, arrive, and settle in.

Mid-Twentys through Early Fortys: Life is good! Old age is beyond the horizon.

Mid-Forties through the fifties: Kids graduate. Time accelerates. We begin taking stock of where we are and where we’ve been. 

Sixties and Seventies: Suddenly, we’re the elders. The mirror brazenly lies to our faces. Friends look old. Health is a popular topic. 

Eightys and Beyond: You know the drill.

If the years of my life were converted to the scale of a week-long vacation, it would be Friday evening. That’s a bit sobering. Fortunately, when it comes to life, I don’t play the vacation game.  

Prior to retirement, our family made a three-hour trek to our cabin almost every weekend. By the time I got off work and we stopped for dinner along the way, it was 10 p.m. by the time we arrived Friday evening. Saturday was great; Sunday came too soon. In a blink of an eye, we had to drive back home. We did that for fourteen years.  

Time at the cabin was always too short. To get the most out of it, we adopted a family rule called the Sunday rule. The Sunday rule forbade any mention of leaving until it was time to go late Sunday afternoon. That way, we could enjoy our weekend to the fullest.

I still remember one particularly glorious Sunday afternoon. MJ and I were cruising the perimeter of the lake on the Pontoon boat when we decided to stop for a swim. The water was crystal clear and the perfect temperature. After our swim, we noticed the sun making its way towards the western horizon. It was nearly 6 p.m. We hadn’t thought about it being Sunday. That night, it was a long drive back to the Cities, but it was worth it! 

Now that it’s the weekend of my life, I find myself reflecting back to weekends at the cabin and our Sunday rule. 

Instead of stressing about an inevitable departure, why not go for a swim?

—————————————————————

If you enjoy my posts, please share them with a friend. Previous posts can be found here by subject category, and here chronologically. You can subscribe to my latest posts by filling in your email address at the bottom of this page.  

Towards A Life Well-Lived is now a book.  

To purchase a copy, please click this link

Proceeds donated to support individuals suffering with anxiety and/or depression.