When I was a child, our kitchen was so much a part of our family, it should have been given a special name. “Kitchen” sounds so common and ordinary for such a noble room. A lot of warm memories centered around the room where we spent most of our time.
Mama and Dad always wanted a large family. They had four natural children, one adopted, (making five), then our cousin lived with us, too, (making it six). They also welcomed foster children into the fold when they needed a home and love —in our home, they received both.
When there was anything important to be discussed, or decided, we were like small knights and ladies of the kitchen oval table. Within reason, all of us had a vote on the workings of the family with Mama and Dad always having final say.
The kitchen was the center for home cooked meals and meaningful discussions during cleanup; it was where Daddy helped us with homework; Mama braided our hair before school; laundry got sorted; Monopoly was played by the hour; where we wrote Christmas cards; planned family vacations; planned our weddings; and when a slow song came on the radio, it was where Daddy held Mama and they danced under the warm gaze of six, or more, pairs of adoring eyes.
When I was a high school senior, Mama and Daddy gave our kitchen a facelift. When the old cupboards and woodwork were torn out, Dad saved a huge pile of oak. Its absence made room for Mama’s double ovens, built-in desk, dishwasher, and the Corian countertops she dreamed of and they saved for.
The next Christmas, they surprised each of us with a small 3-drawer chest and another small chest with two doors —Daddy made them all from the pile of oak from our old family kitchen.
Mama and Daddy are gone now and so is our family home. But each time I look at either of the chests Dad made, I am reminded of the good times we shared in the kitchen. Somehow, the memories and love must have gotten sucked right into the old oak wood.
The drawers and chest interiors still smell just like our noble room, the kitchen …
I had a similar experience with saved oak. We called it "Yankee resourcefulness". Now it's called "repurposing.
Kevin and Kathleen, thank you for the restacks and for your support. Bless you!