The Epicenter

If our table could talk it would have tales to tell. If you look very closely at its surface you will hear its story.  These splotches of faded wood, left over from high-energy teenage manicures and bottles of rogue nail polish remover, like the splatters of laughter heard throughout those summer nights.

Or these permanently permanent marker messages that survive hundreds of scrubbings like some ancient cave carvings, screaming out to tell the daily escapades of a "curious" toddler.

How about those left over craft glitters that have entombed themselves in the grooves of the woodwork in order to remind us to stay creative and sparkly?

Or the etchings and carvings of the multitudes of drawings, drumings, dictations, and computations that have worked its surface.

And if you are hungry, you might find hidden crumbles and crummies to tickle your tummies (although there is no guarantee of their freshness).

Yes, our family table has tales to tell.  One only has to pull up a chair and rest his elbows on the surface to realize that this is a "road well traveled" type of table.

It has played gracious host to many guests...

It has been the backbone of many celebrations...

and supported endless hours of crafts, games, baking, and preparations.

And if you listen carefully you may hear the whisperings of precious conversations that have floated across its surface.  Late night confessions of love, early morning spiritual awakenings, ponderings of future, reminiscings of past, advise given and received, and lessons learned.  Laughter, tears, giggles, squeals, good meals, holding hands, praying, passing dishes, sharing dreams...it all happens at the family table, the epicenter of our home.

Hugs,

Melissa