It's All On The Table

The table knew Pa and George,

I never did.

The table knew my father, John, when he was called Johnny,

I never did.

The four-legged metal table was cold except when the clock made it to 5:00 am and 5:00pm.

Its curved edges were inviting.

I learned not to stick purple flowers in a light socket with this table.

I inspected a bee with my mother with this table.

I learned how to push my food around my plate to make it look like I ate more than I did with this table.

Only two more bites.

I learned that life could change in a split second by picking up a ringing phone.

She has cancer.

What's cancer?

She will get through this.

Nope.

Fold up that table we are moving away.