Mama’s table |

Mama’s table


A few years back my grandmother passed away. She was a champion homemaker and an all star ranch wife. She cooked for harvest crews, neighbors that came to help brand and spent countless hours making her home warm and inviting to all. At her funeral I was tasked with writing a memorial to her. I couldn’t put all the years of memories into words, but I could write about one of the places that I had the most memories with her. This following is not the memorial I wrote, but it takes its roots there. Recently my wife and I built a new kitchen table and it got me thinking about how a piece of furniture can be the soul of a home.

Mama’s table was scratched, worn and scuffed. Some scratches were so deep they could not be buffed. But each scratch had a story, a memory to tell, and to this day they are just as clear as water pulled from a deep well. That table had seen it all throughout our family history, all were welcome to pull up a chair because the coffee and conversation were always free.

Spring time would bring new calves and neighbors to feed, the day help would brand calves as long as they were able, but the best part of the day was spent gathered around mama’s table. We’d talk about calves and whether the rains would come to grow grass in the pasture, but before the feast of a meal we always made sure to give thanks to our heavenly master.

Summer days brought fresh vegetables from the garden outside, the bountiful harvest was Mama’s pride. The table was filled with jars ready to be dropped into the home canner, they were all carefully arranged in the most orderly manner. The jars were filled one by one, all packed to perfection until the task was done.

As the days got shorter and summer faded into fall, mama’s table seemed to get the most work of all. Homework from school was brought to the table to study, and card games were played when the fields outside were too wet and muddy. There were no shortage of laughs when the family gathered at mama’s table, but you had to be quiet if grandma’s stories were on the TV cable.

If that table could talk, oh the stories it would tell, of joy and sorrow and times when life was flat out hell. Through all the times both good and bad, mama’s table always seemed to be the landing pad. Mama’s table wasn’t anything special, just a long oval with some cloth covered chairs, but make no mistake company was always welcome there.

Whenever I think my life is getting a little crazy and unstable, I simply pour a cup of coffee and pull up a chair, at mama’s kitchen table.

There is no doubt that we live life in a fast paced and crazy world. Many times we eat supper in the car on the way to the next event in our calendar books. Looking back on my childhood, some of my best memories were spent gathered with family and friends around the kitchen table. Take the time to set the table tonight and gather around the table for a meal together. The conversation and time spent together might be what your soul needs. That’s all for this time, remember to keep tabs on your side of the barbed wire and God bless.

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Jade Meinzer

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