Isn’t it odd that we need a national week to remind us to cherish our families? I took the liberty of skipping school last Monday for personal reasons, even though classes for that day were suspended from 3 PM onwards to allow working adults more meaningful time with their loved ones. Funny enough, I found myself at home and savoring my mother’s cooking, just as Family Week encourages us Filipinos to do.

Our priorities have shifted. In our means of realizing both our personal goals and dreams our families have bestowed upon us, we’ve become so consumed by the grind of finishing degrees or clocking in those eight-hour shifts and because of that, we lost sight of matters that matter equally. Moments that once unfolded organically—laughter around the dinner table, leisurely weekend strolls—now feel like to-do lists on our already-packed calendars.

Family Week aims to remind us of the importance of togetherness, yet it feels like we need a societal push to make it happen. As I enjoyed each bite of a warm meal, I reflected on the essence of what this commemorative week strives to inspire. But do we really need an official occasion for something that should come naturally?

For many, even Family Week becomes just another item on a to-do list. Whether it’s an obligatory dinner or a forced gathering, the pressure to make it “meaningful” can strip the occasion of its spontaneity. This raises a poignant question about why we need a designated time to pause and reflect on what truly matters. Here we are, relying on a specific week to remind us of something that should be a natural part of our lives. Spending time with our families shouldn’t require a national memo. What this observance brings to light is how far we’ve drifted from our instinctive desire to connect with loved ones, and what a sorry sight it is.

If we truly value family as much as we think and feel, then there is no need for a national memo to remind us to cherish something as trivial as spending time with our loved ones. Yet here we are, dedicating a literal week to reflect on something that should come as naturally as breathing. Maybe the challenge for us is to find those little moments in our daily chaos that remind us of the connections we have unfortunately overlooked.

There’s another irony here and that is the fact that not everyone can and will the warmth of Family Week. For some, it shines a spotlight on absence—fractured relationships, estranged loved ones, or empty chairs at the table. While many indulge in hearty meals and shared laughter, others grapple with bittersweet memories or unspoken words. Celebrating togetherness can amplify the loneliness of those whose family bonds aren’t picture-perfect. Such irony, right?

And yet, even for those who feel that absence, the idea of what should look and feel like family doesn’t always have to fit the traditional mold. Close friends, extended relatives, or chosen kin can offer that same warmth and connection, proving to us that family is not just defined by blood. However, the irony remains. Family Week, enacted into law to bring us closer amidst the relentless demands of modern life, often makes us reflect on what we’re missing. Maybe that’s where its true purpose shines, to encourage us to cherish the connections we already have, no matter what form they take.

In retrospect, Family Week should celebrate togetherness and reflect on how modern life’s demands overshadow the simple joys of being with loved ones. Sitting at the dinner table made me nostalgic for the times when my mom would ask when I’d be home for the weekend. Now, with work and school pressures, those conversations have faded. These days, I visit home once every two weeks, sometimes staying in the city for a month or more, depending on how demanding my college life becomes.

This reality isn’t unique to me. For those separated from their families—by choice or circumstance—the observance of Family Week carries an even deeper sense of irony. The pursuit of a better future for their loved ones often comes at the cost of Overseas Filipino Workers missing out on the present. OFWs go beyond their way of tirelessly working to fulfill their family’s dreams, yet those sacrifices also keep them apart for years. Likewise, students like us who study far from home feel a similar weight, chasing academic goals while longing for the comfort of family. Sure, you can call home, but it’s not the same as sitting at the dinner table, smelling the food cooking in the kitchen, or sharing in the laughter that fills the room. As we pursue our education and future, the longing for those simple, comforting moments grows.

If only we weren’t slaves to capitalism, then maybe these moments would come more naturally instead of feeling like tasks to schedule. Family Week aims to rekindle connection and remind us to prioritize those who matter most. But if we need an official observance to spend time with our families, something larger has shifted in our culture.

The observance of Family Week feels like a band-aid on what we thought was just a scratch but is, in reality, a wound that runs much deeper. The need for a national reminder of something so fundamental may seem excessive or even ironic to many, but it shows us the path we’re on—a life so burdened by demands and pressures that family time becomes a mere afterthought. Perhaps the greatest irony lies in this acknowledgment of what we’ve lost. Celebrating togetherness shouldn’t require an official observance, yet here we are, grasping at fleeting moments while the weight of our daily lives pulls us away. So, to all of us caught in the grind who wish not to lose just about everything, why don’t we turn every day into a celebration of togetherness, however ordinary it may seem? After all, who needs a reminder of something we’re already living through?

Graphic and article by Patrick Joseph Dincol