I would have had no idea in the 1950's that I would look back from a 2015 perspective and cherish those noisy childhood supper-times! But in the last couple weeks I have had conversations with library patrons about their reflections on eating together.
Now I realize, suppertime was an anchor. It was a time to share your day - to laugh, tease, scoff, praise, confess, exult, despair, relate. In those times when our parents had never taken a psychology or parenting course, they innocently provided a safe space for us to learn intimacy, acceptance, self-esteem - a place in the universe that was uniquely our own. I remember if I missed supper for any reason, it was a loss - not just a dietary loss, but I felt I missed out on something important.
And it wasn't quiet, orderly or mannered. It was a conversational free-for-all and one had to be vigorous to get a word in edge-wise - particularly being the fourth of five! But without articulation, it was a branding of belonging.
No price-tag high enough to place on that.
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