I woke up thinking about my Mom this morning, all the glorious good times we had, and for some reason, my thoughts went to all the good times that we have had around the old supper table. On old 319 South Brown Street in Dayton, Ohio, I have heard my Mom come to the back door and call out, "It's suppertime." We had a small back yard, so I was generally in earshot of that call.
I remember
Those Brown Street dinners were a long time ago, seventy years, and are not quite as vivid. Dad had a large garage built, which included a "breezeway" where we often ate during the hot months. I remember those more, mostly those big pitchers of iced tea. Why that, I don't know.
In Oakwood on Lookout Drive, we had a nice formal dining room, stately table, Dad at the head, Mom at the other end, I was on the side that looked out the front window. I remember most, Mom calling me to dinner, more than the dinners.
Been a long time since I have heard anyone call out, "Suppertime." I don't think they do that much, anymore. What a shame, the supper table was a great place, a catch up time, a time of learning all the gossip, of reliving the days activities.
The world would be a much better place, if we all sat around the big table, at suppertime.
