Table Talk
What are you serving at your table?
If you had to pick the most important piece of furniture in your house, what would you say it is? What is the one piece you would not want to live without? (Not appliances, mind you. They’re in a class all by themselves, and I for one do not want to tempt fate by suggesting that I could live without any of them.)
Think about it. Would it be your bed, your desk, the couch, a chair? (For us short girls, it might be a step stool—but hey. Short girls learn early to climb like a gecko, so most of us would probably be okay without a step stool.)
Speaking for me and my family, the one thing I would not want to do without is our table, and it really isn’t about the food. It’s about our family.
Our family gathers in the kitchen.
I suppose there’s a reason for that, and yes, it does have to do with food. When we get together, there are enough of us that it takes a little doing to feed us all, so we spend a fair amount of time putting the food together and cleaning up after. But once the meal is over, chances are several of us will still be there at the table. We might be playing a game. We might be visiting over a cup of coffee—heck, maybe just a glass of water.
I call that table talk. It’s what keeps our family connected.
In my grandfather’s later years, every time we gathered at the table he would make the same comment. Unfailingly. My cousins and I used to sit at the table, watching each other, making bets on whether and when he would repeat it. We’d whisper things like “I bet you can’t hold your breath until Grandpa says it,” and “Oh yeah? I bet I can!”
We knew it wouldn’t be long before he’d pull that out of his bag of conversation starters. Even today, someone will most likely repeat it at least once during a get-together, just to bring the hoot of laughter that accompanies it. It wasn’t really a funny comment, but we found the repetition hilarious. He’d say, “You know, eating is a terrible habit, isn’t it?”
If you search online today, you might be inclined to agree with him. With everything we are supposed to avoid eating, it’s hard to remember that we eat for a variety of reasons.
While nutrition is doubtless important, there is more than one kind of nourishment.
While you’re searching online, ask your favorite search engine why people should eat together as a family. I did. 473,000,000 hits. But guess what? They aren’t arguing with each other. Lots of them say the same things—it’s a way families bond together. They cite things like building trust, keeping lines of communication open, teaching healthy eating habits, and that studies show kids in families that eat together have better manners, more confidence, do better in school, and on and on.
I don’t have indisputable proof that eating at a table will get your kid a scholarship.
I do know that they can find their family’s identity there.
And that’s a more-than-good-enough reason to do it.
I probably shared this story with you, because it’s one of my favorites, but it’s so good I’m going to share it again. (Hmmmm. Maybe I have more in common with my grandfather than I thought.)
I have this memory of going to the kitchen for a drink at my grandparents’ house and finding my grandmother standing at the counter, and all her white-haired sisters sitting at the table. All of them were laughing. One pun after the other rolled from those old ladies like they were doing stand-up comedy. I treasure that memory, because my grandmother was laughing so hard she had to cover her face with her apron to wipe the tears away and get control of herself. That’s us—that’s the kind of family I come from. One who believes in laughing together around the table.
They weren’t just serving green Kool-aid in that hot Kansas kitchen. They were serving up our family identity.
I’ve been to visit other families, of course. I’ve eaten at their tables. I know that not everyone considers laughter to be the main entree. The main sound you hear is munching, and the clink of cutlery on plates.They’re thinking more about the spices in the sauce, or how they can sneak another scoop of pasta. Or maybe they’re discussing the latest sports scores or what a bushel of wheat is selling for right now. But everyone has their own place at the table, and if someone isn’t there, they are missed.
At our table, not everyone is spilling puns or cracking jokes. Some are just trying to take a bite or a drink without choking or spewing. Still, they are all connected.
Some dining tables, as you know, expand. You can insert a leaf in the middle, or extend the ends. Either way, it offers a convenient way to extend a welcome to more people than would normally sit at the table, and everyone can have their place. But some tables don’t expand. So the people at them are left with a choice. Should they squeeze closer together, shoulder to shoulder and plate to plate, or find a new place to gather?
Luckily, even though our children are grown, we still have occasions to get together at our table, to serve a bellyful of laughter with the mashed potatoes. We add all the leaves to our dining room table and set another table at the end of it. But there we are, altogether. Laughing and munching, and visiting together. Table talk. It’s the best.
In truth, our family is rather spread out. Some days that’s a blessing, because being shoulder to shoulder with one’s family every single day can be a bit claustrophobic and confining. Other days, it’s what keeps you warm. Regardless, since we can’t sit together at the table on a regular basis, we’ve had to find a new way to connect.
Enter technology. Commonly known as a group text, I’m inclined to see it as a new form of table talk. Everyone in the family has a place there. And just like we added leaves to welcome our kids’ significant others, and pulled the high chair up to the end of the table to enfold the babies, we can add more to our thread. Every so often the puns make the rounds. Or someone extends an invitation to get together, or sends a picture, shares some news.
Maybe you aren’t comfortable with all that laughter and horsing around at the table. Connecting at your house might mean standing shoulder to shoulder at the counter as you dip chips into the bowl of salsa and never say a word. That’s okay.
Our way is not for everybody. Our table has worn spots from bowls being slid across it, and grubby spots where—try as I might to remove them—the stains don’t go away. But that’s okay, too. It’s all part of who we are as a family.
And if you want to join us for dinner, send a text.
What does connecting for your family look like? Is it at a ballgame or on the slopes? Is it a video chat or a nice long letter? Hey, those are still a thing. You can send them snail mail, email or text. It doesn’t matter. It’s all in the connection.
Who are you gonna invite to sit at the table with you today?
