My daughter asked recently, “Why haven’t you written about the table yet?” Ie. The ‘table’ in my blog name, A Quilter’s Table. She knew that when I started blogging, I intended to write about my quilting, but also about experiences around the table. Not just the cutting table, but the dining table. ‘The table’ has always had special meaning in our family. I love how my son expressed it: “Joy is often consumed, devoured, and pursued in my family’s kitchens. We celebrate and mourn, welcome and remember, pray and lament, all around the table. Joy meets us, surrounds us, and engages us at the table.” We all enjoy creating in the kitchen. Some of us have even worked professionally in a kitchen. We like to try new things and expand our skills and tastes. We most definitely enjoy consuming – most happily, together.
I was reminded last night of our deep appreciation of the table, as 10 of us gathered, for a simple, “comfort food” meal, around my parents’ table. Papa, 88 years young, placed in hospice care just one short week ago, prayed, as he always does, before we began eating. His body, weak and failing; his voice, strong and faith-filled. A casual onlooker might have seen a group of people eating. But to us seated there, heavy-hearted, hope-buoyed, baby-bouncing, story-sharing, it was much, much more. And it was precious.