As a young adult all the way into my later years, the women of my family would gather around my Aunt Gloria and Uncle John’s kitchen table for lunch, coffee, tea and sweets. They lived in Hershey Pennsylvania so sweets were a staple. The table originally included my grandmom too. It got loud. Topics of conversations included our kids, our significant others, jobs, health, funny life stories, travel, books and gossip, of course. The table sat right by a window that overlooked the backyard where a birdfeeder was placed in an open area among the trees. The “talking” got so loud sometimes it sent the birds flying for dear life. That table rocked of laughter, tears, shouting, a ton of calories and love every time. I lived two hours away from my aunt and uncle so while our time at the table wasn’t frequent, it was consistent through the years. You just slipped into a seat and started gabbing as if you never left. As our daughters got older, they joined us at the table too. The energy that emanated from that space was a love-fueled life force that could look intimidating, but it always drew people in. It was a piece of heaven.

Time marches on and people pass so there will be no more time spent at that kitchen table. It ended when my aunt developed a disease that forced she and my uncle to leave their home. Boxes and furniture got packed and so did the memories of my time at that table. Sometimes the memories move out of storage in my brain as I think about the passage of time or recall a moment at that table. Sometimes I laugh and sometimes I cry but when thinking of that time, I am always reminded of what matters in my life. Time at that table left layers of rich experiences within me that I call on when I need to feel grounded, appreciative and spiritually embraced. I’m grateful that my beloved aunt and uncle knew the importance of that time together long before I understood how it would shape me and all who sat at that table. I know that the loving energy of our time there permeated the kitchen so deeply, that a friendly poltergeist was left behind to bless the folks who moved their table into that house after my aunt and uncle moved their table out.

My aunt and uncle now spend their time at the kitchen table in heaven. They spent 63 years together at their table here on earth. When my aunt passed, my uncle lasted a year and a half before he decided he couldn’t be at the table without her. Their ties to each other were way too entangled in each other’s love that any attempt to separate the strands would take him another 63 years. It was my uncle who would come into the kitchen and complain about the noise but would love every minute of the ruckus because we had this time together at his table. I will forever miss them and those moments. When stuff ends because we succumb to life’s evolution, the bruises left behind resurface from time to time. A holiday, a memory, a song or a dream may trigger a torrent of grief in me. Sometimes I can’t hold all the tears and they spill all over my shirt. And most of the time, as the tear stains grow, I’m hit with the thought that I’m glad the stains are there. They exist because I loved and felt loved and because I chose to sit at that kitchen table.

It’s easy to get caught up in “not enough” – not enough time and not enough energy. So, if you want to have more meaningful times and more energy, look at where you spend your time and your energy. We find time to do the dumbest things that do not leave tear stains on our shirts when we ponder their loss as time passes on (if we can even remember them). Be diligent about what things rob you of kitchen table time. Time with people is how we show love and receive love. It’s nothing fancy. At my aunt’s kitchen table, we all just unwittingly pledged that the only thing that would pull us away from that table was a crash from another room and a child’s cry. Our asses stayed planted at that table with each other and no phone or ping took precedence over our love time. Because that table experience was so wonderfully supportive and meaningful, it drove us to create more table time with other family members and girlfriends. The settings at the table may have included different props like books and wine but the props don’t really matter. What matters is that everyone at that table has a place, is always welcome and doesn’t let lifeless objects be of more value than making time for love. It never hurts to bring a dessert or a bottle of wine too. Just set a table and pray that you end up with some tear stained shirts someday. It’s evidence that you loved, felt loved and spent precious time being with others around a table.

Questions/activities to ponder or good journal prompts!

1. Have you ever had a similar experience at a table? Maybe it was once or maybe it’s a regular occurrence. What do you remember about the experience that made it special?
2. How have simple memories of time spent with loved ones shaped you and your life?
3. Food and drinks are often a part of the kitchen table experience. What is it about food and conversation that inspire community?
4. What are your thoughts concerning the following: “If you want to have more meaningful times and more energy, look at where you spend your time and your energy.” Really think about what zaps your time and energy and if it is worth it.
5. Think about creating your own kitchen table. Who would you invite and why? Do it.