The windows

I’ve stopped waving. I can’t see their car anymore, but I can still hear my daughter’s voice giving us her usual farewell.

“Bye! By-y-y-y-y-ye! By-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-ye!” I picture her head out the window, hollering a little louder just in case we are still standing on the steps to the house. And we are… clinging to that distant voice that carries through the night air.

Another visit is over. One by one, carloads of our kids, their kids and the dogs all drive in different directions to their homes.

We stand still for just a minute more straining to hear that voice, but it’s quiet now, so we head up the steps to the house. The dining room light shines through storm door windows that are covered with fingerprints, handprints and some very doggy looking smudges.

It’s late. I can wash windows tomorrow.

The morning sun reveals just how many kids made their way through that door. The bottom rows of windows are a mess! With Windex in hand, I pause just a moment and relive the laughter, the tea party, the hugs.

No one will be stopping here today. The windows can wait till…

Rejoice in the Lord, ye righteous; and give thanks at the remembrance of his holiness. Psalm 97:12

Two Writing Teachers

Memoir Mondays - Food

I was challenged by the Memoir Mondays prompt at Two Writing Teachers. Write about memories at a beloved eatery, they said. I knew immediately the spot to describe.

There is a place I have been eating for years… and the memories are as varied as the foods.

My dining room table.


My dining room table is why I learned to cook. Six people waited there to see what I had to bring to the table. Together we taught our tongues to try new cuisines, new animals, new textures. We filled our bellies with Thanksgiving turkey, Christmas chili and Fourth of July baked beans. We built a repertoire of “remember when” stories over Mexican Beef Rice, pumpkin soup, and cherry cream pie.

At my dining room table we endured soon-to-be ex-boyfriends, evaluated future sons/daughters-in-law, and strengthened new and old friendships. We entertained Marine buddies that we would never see again. We fed neighbors that wouldn’t go away!

Around my dining room table we have celebrated birthdays for family members from four generations, and mourned the loss of my brother, my father and my son.

On every occasion, upon being seated, we joined hands and the gathered circle bowed heads while my husband thanked God, who provided food for our bodies, and salvation for our souls.

I love my dining room table.

Blessed is every one that feareth the Lord; that walketh in his ways. For thou shalt eat the labour of thine hands: happy shalt thou be, and it shall be well with thee. Psalm 128:1,2