FAMILY
What the Table Remembers
A kitchen table, three generations, and the geography of belonging.
January 2024 · 5 min read
T
The table was teak, dark with use, scarred near the left corner where my grandfather had once set down a hot pan in absent-minded triumph.
he table was teak, dark with use, scarred near the left corner where my grandfather had once set down a hot pan in absent-minded triumph.
Around it, three generations took their meals, and around it, three generations took their stands. Arguments were rehearsed there. Reconciliations were quietly enacted, with a passed bowl, a refilled glass.
When the house was finally sold, the table went with my aunt to a smaller flat. It does not quite fit the new room. But it remembers us, and that is, I think, what tables are for.
This piece is a companion to Tides of TIme
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