Some do this
as a Christmas tradition.
Danny is the
first to arrive. He always is. Before he can take off his coat, the bottle is
open and he is telling tales of shopping while swinging his arms like some
suicidal puppet.
Michael and
Madeline arrive next. Michael takes the coats and scarfs into the bedroom and
returns to help arrange the table while she goes into the kitchen. While Danny
is selecting the music on his second glass, Mike is allowing the wine to breathe.
Barb arrives
giving excuses for Hanks absence due to work. She gives up her coat to Mike who
gives her a look that is not seasonal then glances at me. We all know Hank
doesn’t work on Sunday.
Tom, Sarah,
Amy and Andy arrive. The house is growing louder and the kitchen is getting
crowded with the giggling and the clink of bottles. Amy and Andy check out the
tree and then head for Pete who has been patiently waiting for some attention.
Susan
arrives looking like a model and with brief greetings to the gentlemen standing
by the table sashays into the kitchen with Danny in hot pursuit.
The men
share stories of the past year and their automobile problems, new neighbors,
extended family, health problems and latest gizmos and gadgets keeping an eye
on Amy and Andy rolling and tumbling around the house.
The ladies
started their parade out of the kitchen each carrying a steamy bowl or dish
still wrapped in foil to be placed on previously arranged hot plates and
trivets. Their smiling faces flushed by the heat of the kitchen (or the wine?)
direct the crew to assigned seats before removing their aprons. As everyone
sits, new bottles are placed on the table to refresh glasses.
Then there
is a moment of silence.
Everyone
turns to the head of the table where a setting is place in front of an empty
chair. Glasses are raised for a quiet prayer and praise for the person who will
not be attending this year.
Usually Pete
will break the moment with a bark and suddenly the tears turn into laughter and
stories abound as the feast begins. The children might not understand but will
hear legionary tales so the legacy will continue for the picture placed back on
the wall.
Until all
the chairs are empty.
What would have been 35th Anniversary.
1 comment:
That's awfully poignant. Well done.
Post a Comment