The Heart

How many hours have I spent in that room? Around that table? Probably too many to ever count.

It was the kind of room that invited you in. With natural light pouring in from the big family room windows, the rich lavender walls beckoned you to stay awhile.

A lemonade set and the good china sat nestled in the china cabinet waiting for a special occasion to be taken from their perch.

The black antique safe, filled with important documents, served as a great conversation piece and added so much character to the room.

My mom’s desk topped with envelopes, and stamps, and the checkbook sat in the corner right under the phone.

But the centerpiece of the room was the table.

The oval table started with just 2 chairs. One for my Dad and one for my Mom.

Then a highchair was added.

Then a highchair and booster seat.

Then a chair, a booster seat, and a highchair.

The table was not large but was just the perfect size  for our family of five.

The table was the heart of that room.

And that room was the heart of our home.

It is where snacks were consumed and stories of school days were told.

Where we sat as a family of five every night eating supper and talking about our day.

Where my engagement was celebrated over slices of pizza.

Where Thanksgiving dinner was enjoyed.

Where candles and food lined the table on Christmas Eve.

Where pictures were colored and nails were painted

Where wedding plans were made and baby names were discussed.

Where long division was learned and books were read.

Where tears were shed and laughter was present.

Where birthday candles were blown out and graduation invitations written.

Where friends gathered before football games to plates full of sandwiches and hot chocolate was served after cold days spent sledding.

Where phone calls were made and letters addressed.

Where bills were paid and schedules written.

The dining room was for so much more than eating. It truly was the heart of our home.

Two years ago my parents moved from my childhood home. The table that used to sit in my their dining room now sits in my kitchen.

The heart of their home is now the heart of mine. 

In an effort to further develop my writing skills and to write outside my comfort level, I'm participating in the Red Dress Club memoir writing event. The prompt this week was to write about a room from your past.