The other night my husband was in the living room watching one of those nature shows. He has no problem with violence on TV: grizzly bears fighting to the death over territory, crocodiles crunching down on their four-legged catch-of-the-day…
“Hey, come look at this, Hon!” he called to me.
I peeked around the corner, and my eyes immediately misted over at the peaceful, domestic scene before me. A family of big cats, of some sort, were gathered around their meal while golden Serengeti grasses waved in the background. Two cubs played tug of war near-by and a third lapped lazily from a small puddle beside his parents.
“Aawwhh,” I said, putting on my glasses and sitting next to my husband. “See? Even wild animals enjoy the ‘family table.’”
Suddenly, one of the adults growled menacingly. The other, rose and backed away from the bloody, fly-covered carcass — but not before tearing off a chunk of red flesh. The two Cubs dropped their meaty bone, snarled, and pounced on one another. The third, continued lapping from the red puddle — while buzzards circled above.
“Remind you of anything?” asked John, laughing.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
‘The dinner hour’ was sacred at our house. It was one of the few demands I made. The telephone and television were off limits. I didn’t get upset when I heard the term, ‘dinner police,’ (unless it came from my husband.) Gathering around the ‘family table’ gave us an opportunity to talk about the day. The cooking might not have been gourmet, but there were candles, soft music, and sometimes even fresh flowers.
At its best, dinn
er time was laughter, kids throwing out one-liners, reciting a favorite poem, or John sharing an interesting article from the paper. It was informative. During one such memorable meal, a son casually mentioned that his brother’s name had been announced over the office intercom that afternoon (naturally, we stopped chewing) for achieving the highest SAT score in his school. Another son shared that a half-dozen boys from his class had been kicked out of assembly for booing the principal. We were relieved that he wasn’t one of them. It was at another such dinner that we learned our fourteen-year-old son had a girlfriend, and had been invited to a ‘boy-girl’ party at her house that Saturday night. I made it a point to remember her name so that I could call her mother for details.
I admit that, despite good intentions, the dinner hour didn’t always live up to my expectations. Conversation sometimes amounted to ‘pumping’ close-mouthed sons, and getting little more than a grunt. At such times, my husband would shoot me a look that said, ‘We could be watching the evening news!’
At its worst, the dinner table was an indigestion-inducing battle-field, with picky eaters, sibling rivalry, and a father criticizing table manners.
Things were heading south fast for the Serengeti cat family so I headed for the door, saying to John, “And for your information, we hardly ever had flies! Or fresh blood! And buzzards never circled above our table!”
He didn’t hear me; he was too busy laughing.
10 Comments
Thankyou Mrs. Rowe for your enlightening message of the “Family Meal Time” & how valuable this time has been for many years & for so many families. I too was brought up in the same manner being with my wife & I being of similar vintage to Mike!The family meal time was a great time shared between family members where all could catch up on one another day, joys or problems – sharing one anothers experiences and giving support to those who needed it. This year at Easter was the first special family meal that we were able to share since my wife’s father passed recently, so it was an extra special time with the extended members of the family, all catching up together again.
This time should be something that all families should do on a regular basis and I’m sure it would go a long way towards making this world a better place. Modern technology certainly has a place in our world BUT it is also being allowed to destroy a lot of our values. Happy Easter to you & your family!
Thanks for sharing your memories, Mrs Rowe. Dinner time at our house created some very special memories indeed. I can relate to your blog in so many ways.
Happy Easter to you and the Rowe family.
Just delicious!
Sweet story, Mrs. Rowe. As most of your blogs do, they made me think back on my own family. My parents also had the ‘no tv or telephone’ rule during dinner. Dinner was spent sitting around the table together, all 6 of us, hearing about each others day, news, etc. There were good times and bad, but I look back at that time spent together with fond memories and wouldn’t change a thing.
I think more families today need to stop and share a meal together each day. It definitely makes families closer.
Thank you, Mrs. Rowe, for your memories, and for the memories they awaken in me.
Growing up in an embassy, dinner was often a bit more formal than we children would have wanted. But no matter the occasion, the ambience was always one of bonhomie.
My parents engendered in my 3 brothers and myself a sense of unity and cohesion, and it is one we continue to try to impart to our families.
Happiness.
I can completely relate. Dinner was – and continues to be – sacred, in my house.
Growing up in an embassy, the affair was often formal and at the very least we always had wait staff and multiple dishes.
But the ambience was always one of family cohesiveness, bonhomie, and love and respect permeated all.
My parents, my 3 brothers and myself always knew that at the end of the day we would all meet around the table and we would be “family.”
I couldn’t imagine it any other way when I was growing up and when daughter was too. My Dad always said ” I Thank Thee to my Mother”. Dinner wasn’t over until that was said at the end of a meal. Lovely story. Trying to figure out which son did what as you described them at the table. I like wondering.
Dinner was also sacred when I grew up. My father purchased a large round office meeting table to fit everyone. Dinner would be shortly on the table once the fire station set off the 6:00 whistle and we would all run home from where ever, coming into the house like a messy hoard of barbarians.
I remember that the youngest, my little sister, was set under the table in her infant seat so she wouldn’t be stepped on. I suspect we also had an indigestion-inducing battle ground as far as my parents were concerned. My appetite was never affected.
Thanks for another good story,
Peggy,
The family dinner table is still an active part of our house. It is a wonderful time for laughter, sharing, and news about what has happened that day.
It is more often the boys who will speak up when too many family dinners are missed because of my husband’s and mine work schedules. I believe most of the time they speak up because they get sick of their own cooking, but it still makes me feel good that they let me know they miss “a real dinner”.
When my husband tells a story at work about something that happened at one of our family dinners, he will get more comments about how “I want to have dinner at your house.” He works with many late teens early twenty year olds who didn’t grow up with family dinner time and never realized how fun and cozy it could be.
Thanks for sharing the story from your family. These stories are priceless and we need to encourage others to make this a priority.
Charrie Lehman