Gym, pups, and other interesting tid bits

Sundays August 13, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — cgg111 @ 4:43 pm

In elementary and middle schools, my Sundays were full of church and huge dinners at my grandparents’ house on their farm. We would spend the mornings listening to the minister talk about values from the Bible and then go to Sunday School where we would sing songs and make fun projects. If it was someone’s birthday, we all stood around a plastic cake and sang “Happy Birthday” as the special person put change into the little slot on front of the cake. We were busy from 8:30-11:15 every Sunday learning, singing and having fun.
When I hit highschool my family still went to church together and ate Sunday dinner together, but my sister started working and I found myself chilling by myself in church. I didn’t mind, but it always seemed more fun when she was there. I still attended Sunday School and now that I was in the Teen class there were only two of us. Talk about awkward. But, since I was not working like my sister, the expectation was that I went to church and Sunday School just like I always did. When we got home from Sunday dinner, I was banished to my room to study. In the time before cell phones and internet in my house, there was nothing to distract myself with. I had no choice but to study. I sat with a vocab book and tried my hardest to memorize my list of words When I felt I had them pretty well memorized I would go downstairs and my mom would quizz me. Depending on how many I got correct I could either watch TV or spend some more time studying. More often than not I was sent back to study some more. I can tell you that I studied those words only for that test and none of them have stayed with me. Why? Because I could have cared less if there were 10 words I had to study or 100. I just wanted it over each week.
In college Sundays became days full of sadness. When I went to PSU Hazleton, Sundays were the day I would venture back to campus leaving my family for another week. I hated leaving them even though I was only 30 minutes away. My roommates and I got along fine. I just missed my house, my dog, and seeing my family every day. My boyfriend at the time would come visit me when he could. But, Sundays were also the days he would leave me for the week. I would spend my nights being so sad that “everyone” else got to be with their boyfriend or girlfriend and I could only see mine on the weekends. My sophomore year I started dating a guy on campus. Soon Sundays were no longer sad because I had time to see my family, buy couldn’t wait to get back to campus to see my boyfriend. Then my junior year I transferred to Main Campus. Sundays were full of sadness yet again. My family would come visit my sister and I each weekend, or so it seemed, sometimes they would bring my boyfriend who was still at PSU Hazleton. Talk about awkward, trying to make out with your boyfriend while your parents are standing a little too close. My senior year, my boyfriend moved up to main campus. We were inseparable. We walked together all over campus. We helped each other study. Sundays were no longer full of sadness.
When I started doing my student teaching, I moved about 45 minutes from home. I had a fantastic roommate and our boyfriends would visit each weekend! We had a taste of what the real world would be like while still being “kids”. Sundays were full of getting ready for the week. My roommate and I would go to the grocery store and get all the things we would need for our lunches and dinners we would make together. My parents really did not visit me while I was student teaching. So the only sadness I felt was when my boyfriend headed back to Main Campus.
In 2001, two weeks after I graduated, I got my first teaching job. The long-term sub position was near my boyfriend’s parents’ house. So it was decided I would be living there. The three months I worked in this position I do not recall traveling to see my parents. At this time they were about an hour and a half away. My boyfriend came home maybe once or twice. I know he traveled back to Main Campus in a blizzard one night. I am sure he came home after listening to me whine about how much I missed him. After I completed the long-term sub position I moved back home to sub at my high school. It was work. I hated every day. In the fall of 2002 I was offered a full-time position at the Y where I had been working as a camp counselor. I was so excited to start my real job. I had so much fun working at the Y. Every day was like a party. I got to make my own hours. I go to work in workout clothes. Every day something fun happened. We took three-hour lunches, we went shopping for Teen Night all afternoon, we joked around more than we worked. I was living at home so I got to see my family every day. My boyfriend would come to visit me on the weekends. Sunday sadness only sat in temporarily when my boyfriend left.
In 2003 I landed my first teaching job in Maryland. I would be moving out on my own and far away from my family. I knew it would be hard. I planned to come home every weekend. I would leave Fridays after school around 2:45 and get lost every time. Each Friday I would try to beat my time of getting home. A five-hour trip quickly became at least 7. I just could not remember the turns. The way back was even more terrible. I was so sad to be leaving my family and then terrified I was going to get into an accident. Most Sundays I left my parents house around 9AM and I wouldn’t get home until 4 or 5PM depending on how many times I got lost. One time I ended up in Annapolis and had no idea how to get back. I ended up pulling into a hotel type building that had a parking attendant. I told him I was trying to get “to the peninsula side of Maryland.” He looked at me like I was crazy. I started bawling and he told me I was in no condition to be driving. I asked him to help me or leave me alone. He told me how to get back to the Bay Bridge but also to be careful. I just wanted to be home. My parents came down to visit quite a bit also. I would feel a lump rise in my throat Sundays when they would prepare to leave. That meant I was alone until the next weekend. I recall one weekend I went home and ended up meeting up with some people from the Y I worked with. We had the greatest time. We stayed out until the bar closed. We had a sleepover. I told them I was not going back to my job. Of course I ended up going back. I was not the type of person to start something and not finish.
In October 2003 my boyfriend was hired as a long-term sub in the same building I worked. Finally we could be together all the time. I would have a taste of what my life would be like if we were to get married. All the Sunday sadness was gone. I only felt it when my parents would leave and then it was short-lived because Chris was there. Traveling for the holidays was the next time I experienced the Sunday lump. I nearly bawled my eyes out when we had to travel back after visiting my family for Thanksgiving. I had no idea how I would make it to Christmas and then I would be able to return back to work after that extended break.
Eventually I think I just got used to all the back and forth because I don’t remember being too sad as long as I was with Chris. Probably because he was a distraction. I would comment that the trips were fast. It seemed we spent so much time packing and unpacking and driving and not nearly enough time visiting.
My parents visits slowed to twice a year. Going back to PA slowed to the holidays, and Sundays got a lot more fun for the two of us. We would spend the day watching football and making all kinds of yummy snacks. One year we had a dip day, which involved making a different type of dip every Sunday. No wonder I packed on 25 pounds. No activity+too much dip=not a good thing. We ditched that habit and now spend our Sundays watching football, but I go to the gym and walk the pups before we start watching. I also incorporate some sort of activity because I cannot sit still that long.
The Sunday lump still returns usually after a really awesome visit in PA, my parents leaving after a really nice visit, my sister and her boyfriend leaving, friends from out-of-town leaving, and some times even when it is time to go back to school. I always get teary whenever someone backs out of our driveway after they have been with us for a visit. I anticipate their visit, counting down the days, and then it is over so fast. Usually when I go back into the house I try to imagine where all their stuff was. I am sure I will always have the Sunday lump for one reason or another. But I also enjoy the Friday anticipation, the Saturday laughter, the Saturday workouts, the baking and grilling before everyone comes or while they are here, and the excitement as that car pulls into the driveway when they arrive.


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