It has been almost a week since I left the quiet sleepy town of Elberton, GA where my grandparents live. I am back at a desk with a ringing phone, a worn out calculator (ok it is fairly new), and my trusty laptop and I am missing my grandmother's kitchen table.
This may seem weird but to anyone who has ever been to my grandparents house would understand. It is the central location of the family. Meals are eaten with laughter, elbows in other people's faces, fighting over plate space, and the remainder of the last baker sweet tea. This is also where we play our card games. Spades are played with humor and a need for a win. Victors are crowned and the defeated slink off while the reigning champs (Whitney and I) take on the long standing duo of my Aunt Jan and Aunt Jill. Hearts are played where Judge tries to shoot the moon every time and fails. Katie and Kristen watch Grey's Anatomy. Dad puts the finishing touches on the Christmas Card mailing list and Deda shows us grandkids how he uses facebook and his new wireless printer (he's pretty technologically savvy for an 83 Year old.) When I was younger we used to all get together and play dominoes. I can still hear my family's voices yelling "Heyy Y'all! It's my time!" (for my northern friends that translates as "Hey Guys! Stop it! It's my turn to play").
The table has seen us grow up. Has been damaged and repaired. Dirtied and cleaned. And I can't even count the number of pies, cakes, and desserts that have been eaten upon it, not mention the gallons and gallons of sweet tea. The dogs of years past and present have hid under and around it when they finally find a way to sneak past Mema's well fortified door into the house.
This table, though only piece of well made furniture, has seen the generations gather around it as a family. I can not imagine the stories it could tell.
I am yet again on another audit. My tables are hotel desks and I am away from even the surrogate family of roommates and friends. I can't help but think one thing...
Vacation was too damn short.
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