Brand New Table
Waaaay back in 1976--in the days when we searched couch cushions for milk money--my sweet hubby surprised me with a handcrafted coffee table for Christmas. He'd been sneaking over to his parents' basement to work on it without my knowledge.
I loved this table. As time went on it became more and more precious. Each of our four boys left his mark on it. Literally.
But the day came when we moved and upgraded from pine to oak. After a lot of justifying to the man who wanted to chuck it, my memory-and-scratch-laden coffee table was relegated to the garage rafters...and then the basement of the next house. In my mind, it still had a future. Someday we would build that cozy log cabin in the woods we'd always dreamed of and it would fit the decor perfectly.
Fast forward to 2012. Our "cabin" is an aging Class C RV. With kids living in three states and grandkids who will be off to college who-knows-where about the time Bill retires, we want to be mobile. I've finally faced the sobering truth--there isn't going to be a cabin in the woods.
If you've followed this blog, you know my struggles with letting go of the "stuff." But not long ago I took a deep breath, snapped the elastic on my big girl panties, and said goodbye to the coffee table. I gave Bill permission to haul it to the campfire--something he'd hinted at doing for years.
And so he did.
But the next day I looked out the back window. The table had somehow left the fire pit and was now sitting between two Adirondack chairs.
"I figured we could use it as a bench," my softer-than-he-appears hubby said sheepishly.
As so we can.
The grandkids sit on it. It makes a great place to assemble s'mores. The memories continue to build with another generation of kids leaving their marks. And as I watch them, I can't help but make an analogy: Thank you, God, for all the times you've hauled me out of the ash heap and given me new purpose. . .and a second chance.