A view from my side.
Kid#4 and I just spent a few days in Louisville, KY, visiting my mother, brother and his family. We were busy most of the time, out and about doing things. We visited the Frazier Museum taking in the Civil War: My Brother, My Enemy exhibit. We visited the Louisville Zoo. We had a picnic in the park, stepping out in the river using the stones to stay dry, to feed the ducks. Kid#4 had a blast, running and playing and making new friends. Kid#4 has never met a stranger, if you know what I mean.
At home, life centered around the kitchen table. It’s a tradition in our family. So much of our time was spent around the kitchen table, talking, cooking, eating, sharing. I remember sitting around the table at all of my aunts and uncle’s houses as well. It didn’t matter where we were, life seemed to be centered in the kitchen. At my grandparent’s, I would come in from outside to get a cold drink and would find 2-3 people sitting at the table talking. At the beach house where we spent a week every summer, the extended family on my mother’s side all hanging out, we would come in, all salty and sandy, to find the aunts gathered around the table. This trip was no different. Time was spent sitting around the table, talking.
Growing up, the kitchen table was the news and information center. We could all be counted on the eat supper together and the kitchen table became the family meeting place. We would catch up on each others’ day, listening to everyone’s exploits and adventures. We would talk about what was coming up, who was going where, doing what with whom. Sometimes our stories brought laughter and fun, other times we had sad tales to tell. I always anticipated finding someone in the kitchen when I went in and was rarely disappointed. My memories of that kitchen and the food we shared always bring a smile to my face.
My own kitchen table followed this pattern up until I married Ex#3. She killed it. But then, she killed most things fun my boys and I had become used to. But up until then, our kitchen table was the meeting place. If we had something important to talk about, we talked about it at the table. We went over our schedules at the kitchen table. We entertained at the kitchen table. We shared news, grades, triumphs and defeats all at the kitchen table.
And all of of that fits the purpose of a kitchen table. It is designed to bring the family together, in close proximity, to provide nutrition. Nutrition is necessary to support life. I can always find nutrition at the kitchen table. Nutrition for not only for my body, but nutrition for my soul as well. The kitchen table sustains me. The kitchen table comforts me. The kitchen table anchors me. The kitchen table will always be a place of peace for me.