My kitchen chairs need love

Tweet

This morning I decided to take a good hard look at my dining room/kitchen table. It is a piece of furniture that holds a lot of fond memories. When my Uncle moved to Florida he purchased it and we spend as many holidays together as we could. Over the years when my mother passed on my Dad spent more and more time caring for his younger brother. He had some health issues and we lost him almost 4 years ago. Over the years growing up he always gave me things, trade ins were not his thing. He preferred to pass them along to me some how. I was the youngest and I guess he thought the older kids would feel like I don't want this old stereo, I want a new one, but I did not care, I wanted it because he wanted to give it to me. So when he passed it was no surprise that I could not part with his things. My oldest daughter and I went to go clean the house and deal with the things my Dad did not. He went through all important stuff and took care of donating his wheelchair and handicap van and all the stuff that surely someone was in need for. He told us take what you want and donate the rest.( My Uncle never married, or had kids so we were his closest family) My Dad hung out with us a few hours, got us comfortable to know we were ok to do this(not fun, to have to do but in order to sell his house it was necessary). So anyway next thing we knew asked my husband to get a truck and a friend and time to get rid of stuff to donate and take what we were taking, well come to find out I am ridiculously sentimental and I could not bare the thought of not spending holidays around that table. Who would have thought 1-1/2 years later I would have to do the same with my husbands-thats another story though. We spent every Thanksgiving there since my Mom died. We shared our funny stories and ups and downs over the year there at that table. So I took the leaf out that made it so big and it became my table. So now 4 years later and 4 million stories later I scrubbed those chairs this morning and I reminisced of many fond messes there and I realized that no matter how banged up they are they are part of the family. I intend to go buy some fabric, brighten up the seat and continue to make memories there. I wonder how many Birthday cakes were cut there? How many times the mail was thrown down on there or groceries set out for sorting where to put them away. How many times my Uncle looked over at this nutty family and said I am so glad I got a table big enough? Or how many times my Dad sat that chatting with his brother, enjoying his family ? I believe it must be uncountable...