'My Nana's Dining Room Table Is Made of Love.'

My nana’s dining room table is made of dark, heavy wood, with 6 matching chairs. There is never enough space for my whole family to comfortably sit, and yet most of our conversations occur around this piece of furniture, that my nana swears she’ll get rid of and never does. My cousins and I coerce my nana into endless games of Uno and Scrabble there, it is where we have our Christmas dinner, and where I sit as my nana goes through countless photographs with me, recounting every memory as if it were yesterday. The table sturdily and solidly supports us through the bad times, as we sit around it sharing bad news, holding us, as we hold each other, being the safe place we can talk to one another. The faint cup rings that slightly stain the surface, tell a story of the many a cup of tea shared upon arrival, a faint “do you want a cuppa?” travelling from the kitchen. The work invoices and diary usually strewn across it, are a sign of my Grandad’s constant work (aptly named 24/7 because he genuinely never ever stops) showing that his main goal is to look after my nana, and in turn, us too. The odd item of clothing (washed, dried and neatly folded) hung over one of the heavy square chairs, evidence of someone having left something after spending the night and Nana taking care of us, by taking care of our things. The dog leads’ hurriedly left on the surface, piled on top of one another, recount a family trip to the beach with all of the dogs in tow, our own perfect kind of chaos. One that only we would understand. It repeatedly brings us together, and tells the story of us. As the grains in the wood allude to our intricate shared history, and the stable structure of the four-legged surface, reflect the strength of our family bonds.

Despite our constant presence around this table, Nana herself rarely takes a seat. Maybe she is busy in the kitchen, feeding us like only a nana does. Perhaps she has selflessly decided to stay on her feet, just to stand back and watch the rest of us making memories. Or, maybe she is off answering her phone yet again... she answers every time without fail, I think she worries that it is always one of us and we need her. There are times that I have spent all day there, seeing every member of my family come and go. I sit at that table with endless cups of tea, often switching seats when the situation demands, and make memories all day. Seats empty up as my auntie and uncle leave having drank their cuppa, desperate for bed after a night shift, and are taken again as more cousins arrive. My other auntie sits there as my mum does her hair, a queue forming as various cousins implore the question “can you cut mine next Auntie Leanne?” Some cousins leave, my nana’s friend arrives. My grandad pops in from work, then sharply leaves in the direction of the pub, when he realises his house has been taken over yet again. My best friend Becca wanders in to say hello, as someone else goes out to embark on a quest to find food, the army gathered around the table having gone hungry. People join in, then people leave, and others replace them. We laugh, we joke, we eat, we drink, we spend time together. We move like a well-oiled machine, playing a beautiful game of musical chairs, one that we all win, because the prize is spending time together.

The seats stayed tucked in, and the chaotic dining room remained uncharacteristically quiet for weeks on end, when a pandemic struck and a lockdown was enforced. I know that my nana cried, because her home felt empty. I know that I cried, because I missed being there. But, we would soon be back, taking up seats at her table and space in her heart. It was at this point, when I couldn’t freely wander into her home and sit among my family, that I came to realise I have taken that inanimate, seemingly worthless piece of furniture for granted. My nana’s dining room table is not just made of dark, heavy wood... my nana’s dining room table is made of love.

This is for all the grandparents, who work tirelessly to make their grandchildren's lives that little bit easier. We appreciate you, as well as the safe and loving spaces you help to create in your homes for us. We love you.

-AA.