The Table
Our dining room table has been in the family for more than 45 years. We bought it for our second home at an unfinished furniture store, a good young couple project with more time than money. It’s oak, round, with two leaves and six chairs. Just right for a family of five with lots of aunts, uncles, and friends close at hand. The chairs are scarred by dogs, kids, loads of family dinners, and countless holiday gatherings. It has lived in four homes.
But now it’s a family of two, my son and I eat most of our meals alone, the new dining room is a bit small, and the table seems to crowd the space. None of the kids want the old table. It’s big, bulky and not at all stylish. So, as part of a larger project to de-clutter the house and free up space, I had decided it was time for the table to go and part ways with the family. But being a long married man who values the female perspective I invited a friend over to help me chart a course of action. She came. She stood and looked at the table, and said, “What if we take that leaf out?”
I was stunned into silence. Out came the leaf. One foot wide, and four feet long. A course of action changed. The room grew. The table shrank, it almost seemed to smile. I know I did. Now it sits comfortably in the dining room, surrounded by four chairs, waiting for the next time it needs to puff out its chest and seat a larger group. And I feel like that line in the old song, I was blind but now I see. And I marveled at how good I felt because I had the sense to ask another person, “What do you think?”