i had a thought tonight when i was sitting alone at the cluttered kitchen table eating my reheated dinner after a long, stressful day at work:
this used to be my dad.
he would come home every night after work and heat up his plate, pour himself a tall glass of milk, and sit alone and eat it, all while commenting on the cluttered-ness of the table and trying to clear his head of the days events. often he would ask one of us to sit with him. i liked to sit with him and ask him about his day and tell him about mine. it made me feel good that he didn't have to sit by himself. i always sat with him when i could. always.
and now what was a pattern for him has become a pattern for me.
except i don't have anyone itching to sit with me...and that's okay. it just makes me miss him.
2 comments:
what a sad post!
i don't remember it that way. usually he ate in the family room with us. unless it was a meal that couldn't be eaten on a lap.
i DO remember that you would sit with him when he was at the table though.
i'm glad i left the food out for you last night - i almost didn't. i'm sorry it was a stressful day... i imagine there is more of that ahead, given your vocation. love you.
yeah he did eat in the family room sometimes. or in the basement.
i was just having a heavy flashback to the kitchen table and the suit and the loud shoes and the milk...and if by some freaky reason we were out of milk...
Post a Comment