Imagine, a place where your family would congregate, every evening, to eat, laugh and reminisce about the details of the day.

Think about a setting where your children would come on a regular basis, willingly, never having a second thought of not wanting to be there. I’m sure the willingness part is in the eye of the beholder.

I don’t have to imagine. For thirteen years our family gathered around our dining room table, and not just to eat dinner. 

The table was an antique we inherited from my father in law. It was rectangle and made of beautifully carved wood. It had six matching chairs that fit our dining area as though it was built especially for that room. 

To us, this this was not merely a piece of furniture. It was the heart and centerpiece of our families memories.

This is where the girls did their homework and built their California missions. We created Halloween costumes, played Yahtzee and built many a remote control airplane on her. This is the spot we held our serious family meetings, had our food fights and decorated Easter eggs. As all mother’s did, I stood atop her, beating my chest, announcing to my children that “I AM A HUMAN BEING!! 

What? All mothers didn’t do that?

Tabletop is where we carved our turkey, blew out our candles and lit the Menorah.  On occasion we dressed her up with a pretty cloth to hide the scarred pad and entertained dinner guests and Campfire Girls. 

She has posed as a drum, housed puzzles pieces, and was drenched in spilled hot chocolate on winter days. She also weathered the wet towels after summer slip and slide afternoons. She stood strong when the girls sat atop her getting their knees bandaged or teeth extracted; not necessary both at the same time.

When the children were grown, we moved to a home where we no longer had a room that could accommodate her, so we said goodbye. 

Decades later, when our eldest daughter had the opportunity, she bought her back, gave her a facelift and she is now the focal point in her dining room.

Traci is purchasing a new round table for her home that seats eight. Not to replace the old girl, just to give her a rest in the formal dining room. 

She confided in me that she wants it to be the place for her daily dinners of laughter and joy.  For her children and grandchildren to make cookies and get their knees bandaged.

A setting that will be the heart and centerpiece of memories, just like the one she had growing up.