Four plates cover the circular dining table
as the aroma of fettuccini alfredo fills the room.
Behind me the sound of the television blares
of another crime, another scandal, another mishap.
A time to eat used to be where people could come
together and break bread like at a Catholic mass.
Sitting together like this used to be a time of communion.
A special time of the day where all of the family
could sit down without the stress of the world.
Now there are other chairs that hold the presence
of war, drama , and the status updates of different people
as their sounds seem to stiffen the ambiance of home.
Too often is such an act now a time to Facebook,
letting others besides those beside you know of your life.
What used to be a home cooked meal for so many
families is now TV dinners with feeble talk.
How about more bonding rather than tweeting,
or more parenting than neglecting.
Let’s do more spaghetti and meat sauce
rather than McDonald’s or frozen hot dogs.
It is these moments that make a parent’s or
child’s household memories memorable.
I walk into the kitchen and bring out the food
to come back and see my family ready to join hands.