Thanksgiving 2017: The Kid's Table

I never liked sitting at the kids’ table.

With a large crowd each year at Thanksgiving, and people from many families, there was never enough room at the big table. The youngest were assigned to sit elsewhere, off to the side or, even worse, in the kitchen, at what was referred to as “the kids’ table.” Even though I was sitting with those my own age, I looked longingly at the big table and wondered what it was like to sit there. Even though we could talk about things we cared about, like the latest TV shows and who had a boy or girlfriend, I wondered what they talked about at the big table.

In time, I graduated from the kids’ table. I sat in seat wedged between a beloved aunt and an unfamiliar guest at the corner of the table where my legs were forced to navigate a table leg. My mother had me in clear sight to ensure I behaved like I belonged at the big table. The food was the same, but talking about politics and recent marital scandals made the turkey taste dry.

Over the years, my seat improved, and, when there was a wine glass at my seat, I felt like I had arrived. Even the conversations became interesting. No longer at the corner, with room on either side, I noticed the table was not as full as it had once been. I realized my seat came because someone else had not filled it. There was room at the big table because others were absent. I was now one of the old people sitting at the big table.

“To everything there is a season,” someone quoted, when I pointed out the change. Might as well have said, “ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” I want everyone to come back. I want Thanksgiving to be the way it used to be.

I want to go back to sitting at the kids’ table.