by Toni Strickland
While decorating our kitchen table for Christmas, my eyes were drawn to the undeniable scratches, faint coloring, watermarks, indentations, and dings.
At first glance, I was surprised by the wear. On closer examination, my thoughts shifted to “sand, resurface, or replace?” I looked from different angles. Down on my knees, sideways, and the overhead view. Then it dawned on me that I was looking at a visible diary of our family history. The markings of more than meals past, they are the record of events of life, day in and day out. They are the tangible evidence of holidays, prayers, birthdays, game nights, homework, devotions, and school projects, and where family meetings took place.
When Taylor was in 2nd grade, a school project had him film himself as a newscaster—news anchor Strickland broadcasted from this very table.
For many years, Friday was game night and it was held at this table. That morphed into an annual Christmas open house game night with family and friends where games were set up round robin on different tables in the house. There was always a pot of cheeseburger soup on the stove and competition in the air. And this table was always in the rotation.
In Taylor’s senior year of high school, he was assigned a group project with another student. They decided to prove their theory with a bridge built out of toothpicks. They built and built, went to the store and bought more toothpicks, then built more. Rinse and repeat, on and on. The toothpick bridge ended up spanning the full length of this table. Would you be surprised if I told you that project came down to the last minute, and my husband Tim may or may not have ended up delivering it to school for them?
Family and friends were sitting around this table to welcome Taylor home as he walked in the door at Christmas break from sophomore year at college. He was tired after driving five hours and was holding the new puppy he’d bought in his arms, much to our surprise—the puppy that is.
Laying eyes on him walking through the door that night is a favorite memory of mine… from my seat at this table.
Throughout the past 24 years there were times when food was prepared quickly and thrown on the table for a meal before a school event, sporting event, or scout meeting. But there were more meals lovingly made where we ate and lingered… talked about our day, our hopes and dreams, our struggles and successes.
It has acted as a staging and prep area when preparing large meals or baking for a special event. This table held the Mexican buffet for Taylor’s high school graduation party.
Of all the versions of life this table has served, of all the chairs or banquettes that have stood by its side, and all the ways it has been dressed and decorated, its flexibility and dependability have upheld dreams and supported us through hard times as well. I sat at this table when I wrote the social media post to let the world know that Taylor had passed away. It held more bouquets of flowers than I could count over those next weeks. And then at some point, I sat at this table while making the difficult calls to banks, social security, insurance… requesting protocol on how to close his earthly life.
Like the changing wind of life, this table continues to move with us as it has done over the past. Nowadays you’ll find a beautiful place setting with a candle at Thanksgiving, Christmas, or a special occasion. It’s for Taylor! We carry him forward in every way we can and so now this table continues to bring us together even though there’s an empty seat.
Little did we know when we purchased this table in 2000 the role it would play in the life of our family. To us it has become a symbol of togetherness where life happened and memories are held. What happened around this table was holy, and what happens in the future around this table will be holy.
So while some may see a table that needs to be resurfaced, re-stained, or replaced, my eyes have been opened to see our lives beautifully etched into its wood.
We’d love to hear stories about what has happened around yours!
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