Friday

When I was very young, the days of the week meant very little, except for Sunday. That was the day we went to Sunday School and church. It wasn’t until I started school that the names of the days took on meaning.

When still young, Friday only meant the last day of the school week. School wasn’t the nightmare then that it became later. Of course the weekend was fun because there was nothing to do but play.

During the bad years, Friday meant that the week of hell was over for a couple of days, but it was just waiting…Friday night was the best because the entire weekend was in front of me. I would stay up late on Friday and sleep late on Saturday.

When I was married and working, Friday meant a breather for a couple of days. Things were a lot better by then, mainly because I was no longer in school and I had Marvin in my life. There were stressful times at work, but it was still better than being in school. Friday nights were good. Fridays were also good during the years we had kids.

Once the kids were grown and gone, Friday became a bit different. There is a different kind of joy to Fridays now. It means Marv will be home for next two days. I love it when he’s here, even if we spend the time in separate activities. If I’m in the garage doing laundry and he’s in the back yard mowing or something, just the knowledge that he is within reach makes my heart glad.