Memories, A Table, and Baby Drool

    Right now I’m sitting cross legged at my grandmother’s kitchen table which she hated. The cross legged bit not me sitting here. It was given to me by my mother. There just wasn’t room in her apartment for it. I still find it very comforting to sit here. I feel somehow protected and connected to my grandmother as if she’s still around puttering in her kitchen or taking care of some neighbors baby as they go to work.  

    She was proud of this table and chairs it cost her a small fortune.  Well money for her was difficult to come by, so when I say a small fortune I mean...well why not ask a single parent they’ll explain it.  The table sat in the kitchen of her trailer home and the whole family will remember it.  Most of the time when everyone was there the kitchen strained to hold everyone and eventually it burst wide open like a colorful water balloon. Spilling people, children, and laughter into the living room on card tables or with TV trays as they sat on her floral sofa.  

    Almost everyone in my family was raised around this table or sat at it as adults. It has two leafs,  is oak (I think) and is an oval. The legs are solid ‘turned’ beautifully and are a dark brown color as is the table. It’s still large enough to hold all of our memories. All of the tears, and laughter all of the children, baby drool, coffee spills, smashed peas and even sunlight, and rainy days are still here squished into this table. It’s almost a world onto itself where you can still hear the chaos of our big family while you sit typing a blog. My wife and I are building our own laughter, smashed peas, coffee spills and the like right here in this world at this table. We’ve even given it a name, “Grandma’s Table”.  I know it’s so creative right.

    Most mornings find me here sitting. This morning is no different. I sit in the dark at 540 in the morning with no sound but the clicking of computer keys and the smell of coffee. I’m thinking about the table and memories from this last year.  I had a terrible bicycling accident last December and found myself in a wheelchair for the first three months of 2016.

    For the next three to four months I’m going to be having ‘year memories’ that’s what I call them anyway. That’s memories which come from big experiences which are burnt into you. Weddings, births, deaths, first times for anything are all examples both tragedy and happiness count for ‘year memories’.

    I think we must remember these things when they come. We must allow and welcome them as travelers from our past. Give them some coffee or tea and cookies. Let them sit at the table and tell you their story. For the next few months my travelers will most likely be telling me a story of tragedy and healing as I sit at Grandma’s Table. 

Here's a song I wrote about an experience around that table, and there's a link below where you can purchase that song.

https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/grandmas-kitchen/id1082522402?i=1082522536