We’re moved into our new apartment. One of the first things we did was set up the beds. The second thing we did was to put the table together and back up. (Dale wanted a place to eat. LOL Imagine that.)
To really understand, you have to know the history of “the table.” My uncle Freddie was the one who started it all. Years ago, he refinished this table and the chairs for my grandmother. I remember many dinners around this table, as well as many card games. As a matter of fact, I was sitting at this table when we got the call that Freddie had been shot. Granny then got his dining room set, and my mom got “the table.” And so it started again. Dinners, card games (ie, I can whip your tail at UNO, Dale), popcorn for the Bible study, footsie, Thanksgiving turkeys, and many, many prayers that were said.
One of the only things I wanted when my mom passed away, was this table. It’s heavy. It’s big. But it is part of my past. But it’s also hard.
Tonight, eating dinner for the first time in our new apartment, we were sitting down, at our “brand-new” table, and…….. And it’s really hard to swallow french fries with a lump in your throat.
I will add a picture of “the table” at a later date, but I thought this was important.
Oh, and FYI, my “5 minutes for Books” button disappeared again. *rolling eyes*