Life At The Kitchen Table
While 2020 has clearly been a year of great loss, it has also been a time of discovery. We’ve learned who and what is most important to us; what brings us joy; which relationships to release and which ones to nurture. Reaching out via technology; through a warm loaf of homemade bread left on a neighbor’s doorstep; a masked chat on a front porch; a wave to a stranger during a morning walk; or a phone call check-in, as humans we’ve continued to find ways to enjoy each other’s company - at a virtual kitchen table, if you will.
Maybe that’s why this exquisite poem by America’s Poet Laureate, Joy Harjo, resonates so deeply. It’s a reminder that our desire for connection and the ability to build lifelong memories remains strong despite the challenges we’ve faced.
If you have a kitchen table memory, share it below, or just stop by and say hello. I’d love to hear from you.
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Perhaps The World Ends Here
The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.
The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.
We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.
It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.
At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.
Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.
This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.
Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.
We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.
At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.
Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.
Painting by Judith Henry 5x7 Mixed Media on Cradleboard. Available for sale.
