Courtney Kueppers
Sundays have a reputation for being scary, but for me, they are sacred. Not because I go to church — I usually do not. (Sorry, mom and dad). But because the seventh day of the week (or is it the first? I can never remember) tends to be completely devoid of obligations.
You remember obligations, don’t you? Friends’ birthday gatherings; professional happy hours; that play you bought tickets to months ago and now somehow the date has snuck up on you. The kind of plans that feel great to make and even better to break — or at least they used to.
Now, these sound like things to daydream about from our separate bunkers, formerly known as living rooms, as we stare out the window at the afternoon sun, hoping a cardinal pays us a visit today. But in the chaos of the busy lives we once lived, the weight of our many obligations could quickly feel heavy.
In the world B.C. (before coronavirus), I carefully made sure to not commit to any such events on Sundays. The occasional brunch or hike with a pal was sometimes permissible in the morning hours, but come noon — I might as well have turned into a pumpkin.
It was my little retreat from the world. A time I fiercely guarded as my own. A chance to reset before the week ahead.
Now, the need for this refuge seems less necessary — at least not in one designated chunk of time. Lately, as I shelter in place, YouTube yoga practices have replaced the time I once spent in traffic. Home-cooked meals have taken the place of the pre-made kale salad I once scarfed down for lunch five days a week. While I take a stroll in the afternoons, I call my friends to check in on how they’re feeling.
These are all luxuries I feel both grateful, and sometimes guilty, to be experiencing right now. It’s not all hunky dory: I have lost many hours of sleep to anxiety about what the future will or will not look like. But for the most part, I know I have immense privilege right now, in an undeniably scary and uncertain time. My days may lack clear boundaries between work and personal time, but they also somehow feel more balanced.
However, the shift left me with a hole in my once strict schedule: what to do with Sunday afternoons? The answer is at once both retro and completely of the moment: family time.
These days, we gather on Sunday afternoons with a little help from our new friend Zoom. Bridging the miles between my Atlanta apartment and my Midwestern roots, we come together for game night.
First it was charades, then Kueppers-family Jeopardy, which required knowledge of family history and memories of childhood trips in order to be victorious. There’s been an in-house scavenger hunt, a couple rounds of “categories” and Boggle. I’m happy to report that our fierce sense of competition, penchant for sarcasm and deep love for one another translates just fine via video chat.
As we laugh, talk about the state of the world and sip beers from our respective homes, I wonder why we haven’t always made this a priority.
For right now, it’s the only standing social commitment I have on my calendar every week: right there on Sunday afternoons.
Courtney Kueppers is a writer and journalist who lives in Atlanta. She’s originally from the Twin Cities, attended UW-Eau Claire and formerly worked for the Leader-Telegram and Wisconsin Public Radio.