When we purchased this home, we had to hodgepodge a table together – a medium oval plus a six-foot folded table and a side table or two, but as long as that table was full, it didn’t matter. Every year, the holidays are a sometimes-cutting reminder of the chairs that are no longer needed. This year, my children and I are faced with a big change. We now have a big table to seat twelve, and we find ourselves looking for a new home for that table.
This week was County Chorus at Big Spring High School – a bit nostalgic for me since that is where I taught for ten years before Chapin was bo
Our Crowded Table one week after moving into our home.
rn and the trajectory of my life changed. Mary Cay and I loved being back there and hearing the fruits of two solid days of Cumberland County chorus students rehearsing under the direction of Kyle Zeuch, co-chair of Lebanon Valley College’s music department.
The highlight of the night was Alyanna Donna Montgomery’s brief solo in “Crowded Table” by The Highwaywomen. I’m sure the Thanksgiving season factored into the selection of this song, but the fact that my #MagicalOops was honored with the solo within the song was certainly an example of the fates and our faith at work in our lives.
One of the most powerful moments in the last eight years of my life was when my table was crowded with Mom and Dad, Grammy, Grammy Cay and Lynne, Chapin, Lydan and Alyanna, my husband and mother-in-law, and my step-daughter and her husband. It was most definitely a crowded table, and it was a crowd I expected to continue to host for the rest of my days.
Lynne (aka G) is helping us on our hunt. Here she is practicing what she will do while watching me cook in a new kitchen – just pretend it’s Tito’s instead of coffee.
Things have changed. The crowd has changed.
My children and I are now working to find a new home for our table, and we look forward to fulfilling the prayer of these lyrics:
I want a house with a crowded table
And a place by the fire for everyone
Let us take on the world while we’re young and able
And bring us back together when the day is done
We are embracing our home search with joy.
We possess a keen awareness of how blessed we are to have the people and the resources in our lives to support us on this journey. The home we find will be a place where each of my kids – and each of their friends – has a soft place to fa
ll, a place to bring their future spouses and children, a place where they can be loud or they can find quiet. A place where we can make beautiful memories. Above all, I want all my children (my friends and family too) to know,
You can hold my hand
When you need to let go
When we tour potential new homes, Woody joins us, representing the boys’ interests and keeping Nonnie close.
I can be your mountain
When you’re feeling valley-low
I can be your streetlight
Showing you the way home
You can hold my hand
When you need to let go.
I listened to my girl sing, “If we want a garden / We’re gonna have to sow the seed / Plant a little happiness / Let the roots run deep / If it’s love that we give / Then it’s love that we reap.” She had forewarned me that the lyrics were especially relevant to our lives right now, and she was right.
After grieving the unexpected changes, we made a decision to begin sprinkling joy everywhere we can.
We are planting happiness, and we are already reaping all the love.
So this Thanksgiving season, I give thanks for all who love us, pray for blessings to be heaped upon us, and wish us well. And, I tell you all, we will crowd that table again soon because “The door is always open / Your picture’s on my wall / Everyone’s a little broken / And everyone belongs / Yeah, everyone belongs.”