LETTERS FROM JET
BEAUTIFUL TABLE

Hi Group,
First I want to thank you for all the birthday greetings I received from you all. I printed all the cards and messages and they are in our "middle" room, together with all the cards send to me by post. With birthdays, our "middle" room  *is* the "birthday room."  In this room is a huge, massive oak dinner table which comfortably seats 8 to 10 people with comfortable cane chairs around it. To keep the table in  good condition, we wax it with bees wax every few days.

We bought this table years ago. We wanted a "living" table and searched a long time before we finally found the one we liked. Its table surface is very thick - about 3 to 4 inches.  It's approximately 6 feet in length and  pretty much *is* the middle room. There is a bronze lamp hanging above the table, spreading its light onto the surface of the table. The room itself, has a beech wooden floor and white walls with paintings hanging on them. Small lights shine on the pictures. The only other piece of furniture in the room is an antique cabin trunk where the children's toys are, along with a few hidden speakers. There is no stereo or "electronic machinery" present in this room.

Our middle room is a magnet - when people visit us, they immediately go to sit at the table there  instead of sitting in the "front room" where the couch, comfortable chairs, TV and modern equipment are. It's rare that someone sits in our front room -- not because of us,  but because our guests are drawn to the big comfortable table in our middle room.

Yesterday, after our guests had gone, I was sitting at the table thinking when I happened to notice the surface of the table where I saw all the scars we and many others had left. First, I saw the white wax circles from the glasses and cups left from celebrating my birthday.  My first thought was, " Wow! I have to wax this tomorrow."  I took a closer look at the surface and watched as my fingers were drawn to certain patterns in the surface ,just beneath the wax, the scars left on the surface from all the years of living as a table in our household. Joy and sadness, good things and bad.... I drifted away in my  thoughts until I saw one particular scratch I myself had made in our table.

Immediately, I was transported back in time to those long nights when I had terrible pain attacks. I saw myself again walking and stomping the floor with my feet to get rid of the pain.  I saw myself sit down at our table  and stand up and stomp again - back and forth, back and forth. I remembered too well the complete despair, panic even, and the tears that dropped to the table surface, leaving their white marks in the wax. I felt as if  I was *there* again. I thought of the talks my husband and I had about my going to have jaw surgery again.   I actually  vomited over the table from being so frightened at the thought I might have to face jaw surgery once more. I thought about our long discussions and talks about daily life and the terrible pain. We agonized over how we could find the best path to resolve my pain.  I thought of all the tears that were shed and the sadness that happened above this table surface. I thought too, of our friends who came by to help and who ended up telling their own stories, sometimes ending up in tears themselves because they had to face their own difficulties and despair.

I saw another dent in the surface. It was made by a dear friend of ours. At that time he was very ill and we had cooked asparagus in six different ways for him. We peeled four pounds of asparagus at the table together because we felt it was fun to do. Our dear friend Jaap had a brain tumor.   He died a few years ago after a long and valiant "fight"  -   what is there to fight?  :- (  I thought of other close family and friends who had passed away and left their marks on our table. Not all of them had left physical traces of themselves on our table  but because of this one dent, Japp's dent, and a few other marks, I thought of all of them and of  the tears we had shed for them above this table surface.

My finger suddenly went to a few small holes in the surface that were were filled with wax and to a patch of blue paint. The holes were made by my son when he was younger. Someone had given him a child's carpenter set as a gift and my son was so enthusiastic that he nailed everything to the table!. 

The blue patch came from Jo-anne's painting she did the other day. I thought about the time my midwife, my husband and a dear friend  were waiting around our table for me to give birth to Jo-anne.  At the time, I wanted -- no, I *insisted* on having a shower <g>.  I remembered all the laughter and I thought about the jokes.  I thought about the happiness, not just sadness that we had all shared around this table together - our family, friends and acquaintances.

I love our table because it reflects my life.  I know our  table will make sure that I never forget any of   the beauty and the sadness I have had in my life because I shared it all with this table. This table is me.

I forgot to tell you our table is an antique table and carries the 'scars' from all the people who  owned it before us. Their lives are written in the table surface too. It's a precious thought that life tells us a story, both happy and sad in the surface of one table.

So now,  I'm going to spread out my newspaper on the table, and read about the joy and the sadness in the world, but before I  do  I will wax my table once again so it will shine for me.  It will make me look at the beauty of life without ever forgetting the past, all because I can see the beautiful markings people left there for me to remember.

Group, I love you for being here.   Remember, you are on my wall in our middle room, in my thoughts and blessings.    Bye for now Jet