A few essential activities during the day keep the a crucial thread in the United States of America, and the world for that matter, together. The family dinner, in my childhood, was a time where we could see Dad and Mom relate to one another and these two share time with my siblings and I. It was like a book end to the day, which in retrospect, was better than a ‘night cap.’ After saying ‘grace,’ in giving thanks to God, something we would take turns in leading the family in, the food would be passed around and instead of immediately eating, though that was allowed, everyone would calmly put forth of their day’s happenings. Mom and Dad would ask each of us, calling us by name, “how was you day? We would comment on teachers, assessments, things planned for the future in school or talk about what we wanted to do for the weekend. Where one child would speak, soon enough the rest would chime in on the heels of their talking. Momentary silence would elapse from my parents as we all ate and thought of responding to one another. I remember it like yesterday. It felt good to share time with the immediate family and it made me of stronger character because of it.
More and more though, the dynamic in households has changed I believe. Our lives seem to be re-prioritized and family eats in a disjointed setting, and at different times. In my childhood household, we were fortunate to have a very large table with ample room for each of the six of us. The table was mostly used for dinner, whereas breakfast happened in the kitchen, another family time which I think of fondly. After my jog with Dad, he would go back out and run a few more miles in the morning, coming back drenched in his own sweat and on to make one of his nasty vegetable-fruit shakes. My sisters and I would read the San Juan Star newspaper. Mom chaired the events in the morning. I would read the comics section, Bill Waterson’s Calvin and Hobbes and Gary Larson’s The Far Side were the family staple in comics. Dad would always rip out these and tape the really good ones on the fridge. As we got older, Mom would get us to read more of the paper. She got us all into Ann Landers and eventually the front page.
Meal time was nothing really, but now I see that it was everything. It was the time when we were all together as a unit. It felt good to be part of a unit and to share time and space with one another that was special.
Does that happen as often as it should in America these days? Do we turn on the television and get programmed with it? Do we work late hours and always miss dinner? It can get to a point where you have to ask yourself, ‘what is it all for?’ What is the point of having a family if it is not a priority to be a solid unit? The children grow up and fly away. The memories are made, or not made and it is these meals, be it in the morning or the evening, that are the anchors, can be the therapeutic anchors of the day, doing more for overall well-being than most other activities. It is not a time of running out, or a time of watching our kid playing a sport, but a time where we are calm and not rushing, where our composure is saying, ‘I am here, son. I am here, daughter. I am here spouse, and this is important for me.’
Put some easy listening music leading up to dinner to create a calming atmosphere in the home if you feel it will help everyone unwind a bit. Bring flowers home, have a glass of wine (or a cup of tea) and signal that it is soon time to come together as one. It may be possible that you will do more to save your family and marriage if you do so. We are human and these moments recharge us. We do better when we reach out to one another and commune on some level, and this starts at home.
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