This weekend's project: Preserving memories

My grandma's birthday was last week. I went home to celebrate her with my family. My mother and I though that instead of buying her yet another little trinket, that we would do something for her. We decided to refinish one of her most prized possessions, her first kitchen table. I wish I could share the way her eyes lit up when we told her our plan. She was never the type that loved extravagant things, she loved little sweet things like this. You could have given her all the diamonds in the world, but she would have wanted this so much more.

My granddaddy bought her this table with 4 chairs second had for about $30 when they first got married going on 60 years ago. Even though it wasn't new, she was tickled to death. She was so proud of her beautiful table. Through the years the table has been battered and worn. Every family gathering when we are putting out tablecloths on all of the tables getting ready to eat, she comments on how she hates how it has gotten ragged. She still loves that table as much as she did back as a young newlywed.

I wish I could hear the blessings this table has told over it, taste the garden fresh meals that it served, and laugh along with all of the wonderful times it hosted.

My mom and I spent all day Saturday sanding down all of the years of paint and imperfections and then finally putting a fresh coach of white paint.

Before we the end of the day, the table was a solid white and beautiful again. She was so proud and showing it off to everyone who came to visit and have a birthday lunch with her Sunday. You would have thought we had given her the moon!

It was still drying when I left to return to Atlanta, but I gave her very specific instructions that the project wasn't complete yet. Once it dries, she is supposed to write a note on the bottom side of the center leaf. Whatever she wants to leave us--a prayer, it's history, or a message. I just want to make it even more special than it already is. I can't wait to read it one day.

We were there longer than we expected, so she made us one of the best snacks you could have ever imagined. When I was a child, I spent practically every day at my grandma's house, and nothing ever made me more excited than when she fixed us tomato sandwiches and fresh corn and peas all from her garden. She doesn't have her beloved garden anymore, but my aunts and uncles make sure that she still has fresh veggies in her kitchen. My stomach has missed her cooking. While we sat at the dining room table eating, I watched as she sat with my granddaddy. She never leaves his side. I love listening to her talk to him and watching her hold his hands. I've told you about their love story before here. Little moments like these remind me how blessed I am to have been raised and loved by them.