The Kitchen Table Altar

In my family, food was love and the kitchen table was central to its expression. We convened around our kitchen’s oval table that served dutifully as a launchpad for art projects and homework, an arena for puzzles and games, and a desk for balancing the checkbook and paying bills. Most importantly it was called into service daily as gathering place for communal nourishment of body, mind, heart, soul, and of course, family.

The rhythm of eating was a rite and our kitchen table the altar.

Family dinnertime was a given. Absenteeism was not even a consideration short of being bedridden with some deathly contagion. And growing up, we weren’t the only ones. Mrs. Foley, who lived next door, had a large cowbell, its clarion ring announced dinnertime at the Foley household and pretty much served as the dinner bell for the entire neighborhood.

My mother did most of the food preparation and food was prepared everyday for every meal. My sister, brother, and i all had chores that circled around dinnertime – shelling peas or shucking corn, setting or clearing the table, washing or drying the dishes. My father was somewhat exempt from the doings of dinner as he arrived home from work at dinnertime. Those times were modest and a single breadwinner could support a family.

The kitchen table served as a daily gathering touchpoint to talk about our days, share thoughts and feelings, and make plans.

There were manners, rules, and customs. There was plenty of laughter and at times, tears.

Conflict and tension arose from time to time and we learned to navigate between the fields of what was said and the fences of what was left unsaid.

Physical spaces can either encourage or discourage relationships and the table (kitchen, dining room, or other) is one of these spaces. But there needs to be a call – an invitation. And people also have to be willing to slow down, allow time and make space for connection to take root.

Some kitchen tables are gathering places; others serve as mere distribution points.

Some center around conversation and companionship while others, the focus is invaded by screens. I recall visiting my cousins where a small squawky television had taken up residence at their kitchen table. Its blaring presence was hard to ignore as it greedily tugged the tide of attention contorting the table’s orbit towards it and away from each other. Incongruous and emotionally dissonant situations make for sticky memories and for me, this was one of those situations. The memories of family, food, and connection of my childhood experience led me to revere and regard the table as essential in raising my two daughters and in hindsight i am grateful that their mother and i held fast to our conviction.

What happened at your kitchen table? What was welcomed? Frowned upon? Who held the power and how was it held? Did the call to the dinner table take precedence over all else? Was there even a call? What does it mean and why does it matter? Share a story about your kitchen table.

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Our BreakBread Prompt for this month is about the kitchen table:

“We’re all human at the kitchen table.” ~ Ava DuVernay

What happened at the kitchen table? What do you remember fondly? What would you rather forget? Share a story about the kitchen table.

To learn more about BreakBread visit www.breakbread.world.

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