We purchased that table and chairs in Arkansas about 22 years ago. It had a tiled top, matching the tile backsplash in our kitchen there. I never really liked it in our kitchen here - I thought it didn't match very well, but it was functional and so we kept it -- until now. We are in the process of packing as we get ready to move to a new house. That old tile-topped table is not going with us.
We moved here in October of 1997. When we bought this house, the girls had just turned seven, and Caleb was a very gregarious four-year-old. Twenty years. In this house, we have celebrated roughly 100 birthdays, 20 Thanksgivings and Christmases, and we've had 15 New Year's Eve parties. We have hosted countless Bible studies and many dinners with friends around our larger dining room table. We've had several graduation parties here, and over the course of those 20 years we have moved kids out . . . and sometimes back in. Our guest room has housed many guests, including boyfriends who became husbands to our girls. Lydia made the first overnight trip of her life to this house. All of that barely scratches the surface of the good times here -- there were fun times in the pool, the zip line and tree house that Jeff built, the sleepovers the kids had growing up... those are just brief glimpses into the endless memories of happiness, fun, and laughter that have reverberated from these walls.
The memories stretch out further into the neighborhood as well -- Caleb did his Eagle Scout project down the street, placing picnic tables, games, and a grill in the commons area. We've enjoyed that on several occasions when friends have visited. And the daily walks with our dogs when we've stopped to visit with the neighbors, or we've been followed and sometimes chased by animals on the loose have also been memorable. The kids trick-or-treated for many years in this neighborhood, and our family always laughs when we remember the Halloween that Sarah was a present and fell down several times on our trek around the block, unable to get up on her own.Some sad memories come to mind as well. In this house, I opened up the door on two different occasions to have a heartbroken child fall crying into my arms. Snowball (Sarah's hamster) was murdered by Cupcake (Becca's hamster), and both are buried at the end of the driveway. Opie, our beloved Beagle is buried in the back yard, where there is also a beautiful Camellia bush that was planted there about 14 years ago - a special gift from some special friends in memory of my father and his sudden passing. And it was in this kitchen where I stood doubled over in shock on that foggy October night with the phone to my ear as my brother told me that Daddy was dead. It was also in this living room that Jeff got the call about his father's passing.
And then there's that kitchen table -- we gathered there as a family of five every morning and evening to share our meals. Jeff read from the Bible every morning at breakfast, and at dinner we shared details of our days. Caleb always provided our comic relief - sometimes getting in trouble for being too silly - and Becca usually asked if anyone else was cold. But much more occurred around that table than just eating... school projects, Boy Scout projects, and wedding reception preparation happened there. Christmas cookie decorating and Easter egg dying were both yearly events around that table. And who in our family can forget the tears shed at that table during late-night calculus tutoring sessions with Jeff and the girls? Countless birthday candles were extinguished there, and the games... rowdy, raucous, intense games, which sometimes ended in conflict. That kitchen table was a microcosm of life in our home. So it makes sense to me now why I was sad to see it go.
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