My fondest memories of my family come when we are sitting at the table. Happiness, laughter and joy fill the room as we strengthen our bond through jovial conversation. Stories are passed from one generation to another. Our sitting doesn’t always have to involve food. Granddaddy sits on his computer writing his Bible study and blasting music on his laptop. My uncle is playing a game on his phone. My mom is shopping online with her phone (that’s my mom). Yet and still, conversation is flowing freely among us. Joy is at this table.
This is one of many times we have sat around the table talking . Sunday dinners and holidays are the usual time we convene. Just being family. One thing missing is my grandmother. Before she passed, she said, “Y’all will have plenty of stories to tell about me when I’m gone.” She was right. We reflect on her kindness, warmth, and strength. We speak of her love for God, and the funny moments that came from this love. We reflect on her legacy of love. The stories are usually humorous ending with a roar of hilarity.
Oh, how I miss her. She would relish the time spent with her family. The matriarch of the Henderson clan taught us all how to love through it all. Pain. Anguish. Anger. Frustration. Fear. Tears. Sadness. Trials. Bliss. Contentment. Delight. Triumph. We are still family through it all.
After the storytelling is over, we get up and go our respective ways knowing this is time well spent. Our bond is tighter than it was when we sat down to break bread. One day we will reflect back on our time at the table with fondness in our hearts from all of the memories created and shared. One thing is for sure, I love my family.
This is what happens when we sit at the table.
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Great blog. Your grand mom was a super saint. He legacy will be talked about for years to come. We as an Africia American learn great tools of life at the table.
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