The Table

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My mother is there as I iron the napkins and place the glasses and adjust the silverware. Despite her passing twenty-five years ago now, I hear her voice gently asking, “Would you set the table, honey, you do such a beautiful job?” So I set the table for her still. And in the doing of it, I extend her love for me to my friends now whom she has never met. But they know her through this table they love, in the friend they love. I carry on her care. It is here in this kitchen, where she has never been, that I feel her closest to me. And its these times in the kitchen, precisely when she feels so present, that I suddenly find that the celery is blurry from my tears.
I feel so grateful that my mom taught me about preparing the table for guests, about setting chairs as one sets the intention for a good visit, about decorating to create a beautiful space for love, about serving love while serving food. I am so grateful for these gifts and the friends who have continued to share the table with me —friends here and those never far away.

2 thoughts on “The Table

  1. Ann Weiss says:

    Amen Teri – bless you this weekend! It’s my first without my Mother and it’s been an emotional challenge. You know she was at your table in your heart and always will be as love transcends dimensions and is present to us always. Blessings to you this holiday season. Ann

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