Welcome to Tuesday, day two of my personal celebration of Act Happy Week! I mentioned yesterday that I asked my family to think about what made each of them happy and I promised to share some of their thoughts on my blog this week. Up first is son number three, my college senior who is an actor, director, producer, writer, and all around amazing young man. His happy thought? Sitting around our dining room table for a family dinner and then remaining for hours (literally) of laughter, stories, discussions (sometimes heated) ranging from theater to politics to books, and always landing eventually on our family's favorite topic: movies.
|Gathered around our table; in back my daughter-in-law and two sons, in front college son and daughter|
|Not necessary for my family!!|
So what makes my son happy makes me happy too. I am glad that we took the time, even when it was hard or inconvenient or was simply by necessity a rushed meal, to come together again at the end of the work day and hold hands and sing The Lord's Been Good to Me.
|Thanksgiving holiday concert, from left my daughter, my nephew, college son, my niece and her family's foreign exchange student.|
Perhaps the World Ends Here
The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.
The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.
We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.
It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.
At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.
Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.
This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.
Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.
We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.
At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.
Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.