Yesterday was the end of a good run. A time that will be looked upon with much appreciation for good times as well as times difficult. The end of an era.
We replaced a well worn dining table, given to us by Tiffany's sister as we were in our last few semesters in college. It came with no chairs. I don't really recall what chairs we used with it. I am sure they were some hand-me downs that we had come up with. I am sure none of them matched; To the table nor to each other. We then graduated and moved and Tiffany's grandma, no doubt feeling sorry for the tables predicament, found some chairs that, at least, matched each other. She painted them, and we used them. And we were grateful for them.
With that table and those chairs, college homework was written and tests were prepared on them. Scriptures were studied on them, while pages were flipped. Games were played there, laughter was created there, discussions were voiced over the tops of them. Countless dinners were served thereon, along with spills, messes, and no doubt some baby drool were all part of the tables life. It had no name. It was simply 'the kitchen table'. Though Big Bertha (the hutch next to it) had an identity, the table, was always, the table.
It was replaced yesterday and Tiffany's first response to the table that replaced it was how it made the space so much better. How the room felt more alive. And how she felt like she could actually invite people over without feeling embarrassed. Actually, that was my issue, not hers. The poor old table never had a chance. The new one was bright and new. It had no dings on it. It was clean as a whistle. It even sat the full family plus some around it. The chairs matched, and the finish was bright and new. After one days use, it got primped and primed as new place mats adorned it. A tablecloth was specially ordered to fit it. This was a king in the paupers place.
And what happened to the little ole' table we used to love so much? It was relegated to the downstairs. Designated for kids plates and additional scorn, being unprotected from the eyes of responsible adults.
It will always be a part of our life. One we will cherish, if but only for the memories created around it. Because they were many. RIP, our good ole' friend. You had a good run. You had a good fight.
Here's to hoping the new table can do just as much. Some big shoes to fill.