I’m not quite sure when it started, or even how, but at some point our family ended up on varied meal schedules. Perhaps it was because of different activities. Perhaps it was because my husband traveled for work and came home at a different time each night. Whatever the case, as I cooked dinner for my kids, it seemed almost as though I was the lady who served in the dining hall, “May I take your order?”
Each of us seemed to punch our dining card at different times, eating different foods in solitude. Though this certainly was not the ideal situation, I was just happy that everyone got a meal at some point (even if each person chose a different part of the meal.)
It’s not as though we never ate together but more and more it seemed like eating together became an optional event as our schedules pulled us apart. Now that my son is away at college in a different part of the country, our meals together can only be at Thanksgiving, Christmas, spring and summer breaks.
If I could do it all over again, I think I would have found a way to make more of our meals together a requirement. What I would give now to have more family time together. There is nothing like seeing my family around the kitchen table even if it means nobody can get a word in edgewise or even if I have to just watch everyone in a meditative state.