At the Table

Sundays are becoming my new favorite day of the week. I was at a seminar this week listening to a speaker who was talking of leaders caring for their soul. We all have people we take care in our life. We all lead in someway caring for someone in our life, whether you are health professional, a caregiver, significant other, friend or family member. This speaker talked about the importance for all of us to find some time throughout our busy lives to rest our body, mind caring for our spirit. He shared stories from the scripture clearly directing the need for all of us to find sabbath from our day-to-day life.

FullSizeRender (24)I am thinking this is why Sunday has become one of my new favorite days of the week. Diane and I typically spend time together. The new normal might involve Josh coming home from college for a big Sunday family dinner. I am so into our time together. I effortlessly am up early Sunday morning preparing some special meal that involves something baking in the oven that takes over the smell of our entire home. You know the smells, like those of Thanksgiving morning, the mixture of savory and sweet like stuffing, rolls and pumpkin pies. Yeah that is the smell we all remember.  In an italian home you would smell a huge steel kettle of red sauce cooking on the stove with the aroma of onions, carrots, celery and garlic permeating your nose.

I declared our Sunday meal is a dinner that must have candles and a linen table-cloth. While everyone is sleeping I start the meal then head off to worship at Church. When I arrive home its immediately reminds me of arriving home to Mom and Dad’s, the home I grew up in as a child. My family would gather on Saturday nights. My brothers, sisters, nieces and nephews and I would arrive. Some of us would join in the kitchen finishing the meal, while others would open the dinning room table expanding to seat all 14 of us. That little drop leave table was the center of our family.

That table would expand from a length of 24 inches until it reached full size at 108 inches. Thinking back today, that table was symbolic of a time which was simple peaceful and fun. We would gather together after our complex week, and share stories, eat, laugh and play games or watch movies. You know that type of laughter I am talking about, the kind that hurts your checks for days to follow reminiscent of the time you shared.

As I set the table this morning for our Sunday Dinner with Diane and Josh, complete with my home plump with memories, I couldn’t help but remember my life from that early time. I felt thankful and hopeful all at the same time. Thankful for my family a grew with and hopeful that Josh will remember Sundays dinners 40 years from now as I remembered being at the table in my childhood.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Our House.”

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