Storied Kitchen Tables

Since we’re anticipating the arrival of a new kitchen table, I decided to sell my current one. My husband and I have had a number of kitchen tables over our 43 years of marriage. The first table was a hand me down from some great-aunt somewhere. At the time, our apartment wasn’t big enough to open the table’s extensions, so we kept it folded in its smallest position so that a high chair could squeeze in between our 2 mismatched chairs. I distinctly remember those dinners when my husband spit peas. Hearing the infectious giggles of our then 18-month-old daughter as she saw peas fly through the air was priceless. He was crazy about her.

Then came the round pine table with matching chairs that would hold court in our kitchen for a generation. Around this table, we shared vibrant dinner conversations and helped with homework assignments. This is where we addressed Christmas cards, addressed our kids’ growing pains, and addressed difficult family challenges. Family joys were shared and heartaches were addressed. This was also where I held my hands in prayer on those nights when I anxiously awaited the car lights to appear around the cul-de-sac bend. Then I could rest knowing my teenagers were safely home. Oh the stories that table could tell.

However, this is not the table I wanted to sell. This table tells a different story.

A potential buyer came to take a look. As she’s inspecting the table, she asked, “Was this your work table?” I laughed. I told her this was our kitchen table. “Oh,” she responded noting how blemished the table top was, “It’s pretty worn. You must have kept a tablecloth on it.”

I shook my head again. “This table tells a story of my grandchildren,” I said with a smile. Recent memories came flooding back. I remembered my granddaughters’ manicure parties where cleanup missed the pink nail polish smudges. I noted the purple permanent marker lines reminiscent of my 4 year old grandson finding the hidden supply of not-so-kid-friendly art supplies. I ran my hand over the cluster of divots in the wood. I could still hear the squeals of my very energetic 2-year-old grandson thinking it quite funny to bang a spoon onto the table while bouncing to the song, “Baby Shark.”

Kitchen tables represent the heart of the home. It’s the gathering place for families where memories are etched for all time. I’ve never been one of those people who has a floral centerpiece positioned perfectly in the table center. My table reflects the messy beauty of all things family. Usually, there’s some sort of clutter suggesting which little ones were recently over for a visit, or grocery list scribbled on the back of a used envelope. And, my hope is you can always find a pair of my reading glasses on top of this table. If not, we have a problem.

With the purchase of a new kitchen table, I’m hoping to turn over a new leaf. My goal is to spare this new addition to our home from clutter, messiness, and hard cleanup stains. My husband is offering a wager to see how long we can keep this new table looking like new. I’m not taking him up on it because I know you can take the table away from a family, but you can’t take the family away from the table. I will, however, commit to try.  I purchased my very first centerpiece and will enjoy the sense that all is well. That is, until my grandkids come for a visit. Then, the centerpiece is removed and all bets are off. New stories await.