take a seat ~ pecans at our table

First, thank you for all your kind and sincere comments this week. I cherish those. My family treasures them. Thank you.

My nine year old doesn’t talk a lot…unless you can get him to start. Then just have a seat.

The hard part is getting him to start.

Two years ago I placed a big bowl of pecans on our kitchen table. There is something therapeutic and simple about sitting at the table and cracking pecans. My grandparents always had pecans on their table. I never realized the wisdom in that until two years ago. There is something about pecans that draw people to the table – both my family and our guests. I remember a cold December night last year, Chris and I sat at the table with our friend Traci for hours – cracking pecans and catching up. Nothing fancy, but it was a beautiful night.

Last year my oldest consistently wandered to the table. I’d see him there and join him. When his hands were busy cracking, his words began falling too. So many simple, cherished conversations at the table with him. While cracking the shells of pecans, I was breaking through to new parts of him too.

Some generous friends of ours lets us come to their home to pick pecans last week. Little One wasn’t in the mood to pick; she was content in her daddy’s arms instead. Our ‘bowl’ is bigger this year, but the conversations are just as sweet.

I could do without cold weather. Without boots or scarves or layers of clothes. I could do without jackets and all the extra laundry, but I sure am thankful for pecan harvests. And I sure am thankful for getting to know my nine year old a little better each time we gather around the table, crack open shells and talk about the things on his mind. He’ll be 10 in the spring. Double digits. When and how did my tiny baby boy become a young man? He likes to tell me that he’ll be driving soon.  When he pulls his car into the driveway and walks in the door, I hope he stops at the kitchen table to take a seat and crack pecans with his mom.