This table

If you enlarge the photo you can see my Mom a bit better and some 'detail' of this "table of love". First and most important, Mom - she so enjoyed her Mother's day brunch and being with us, her family. I could see she was tired, and that she pretended to feel good for all of us.

And this table - oh my -it has "served" so many and heard every secret, hope, desire, fear, joy, sorrow held turkeys and omelets and wine glasses and sippy cups, paper plates to fine china - elbows, and bowed heads, praying hands and hands held, problems heard, celebrations shared, voices raised, voices in a whisper, tears shed, laughter roaring, applause and arms crossed, silence, linen table cloths and paper birthday table cloths, flowers and candles, coffee mugs and tea cups, dinner for two, dinner for eight, dinner alone. Oh this table, hand made on an Indian reservation 12 years ago "serves" us so well. And Mother's Day is just one example of this table 'serving' us - flowers from Skipp, lilacs, fresh cut from our garden, scented candles, gift bags for sharing, cards of love, fruit and coffee cake, and a lovely view to the back yard and woods and side yard and woods. Today, this table had a big job, to hold up Mom - as she leaned and gently smiled - ate slowly and savored her surroundings - this table comforted her - gave her strength - welcomed her and was so proud to serve her. Her place at this table is worn in the best of ways, reserved and honored in tradition - her place at this table is sacred.