Eating

My family likes to eat. I mean we really like to eat. I know your probably thinking yeah, so. Everybody likes and HAS to eat. But for me and my family eating has always been almost something of a art, something we all looked forward to.

Growing up as number four of five kids we lived on a farm and we all were expected to pull our weight. My father raised chickens, pigs, cows and planted crops on three different farms. During the summer when us "young-ins" were out of school days were long and hard. My mother always made sure we started the day out with a big hearty breakfast. Then later we would break for lunch which was usually sandwiches, soda pop and anything else that was quick so we could get back to work. The work was hard and hot but our reward would come at the end of the day when we would all gather around the dinner table for our last meal of the day. My mother would give any chef a run for their money and her cooking skills were and still are legendary. We would dig in like we hadn't eaten for days! Whatever my momma made, she made sure to make plenty of it cause we were hungry! All washed down with some of the best sweet tea one could ever hope to taste! When we were eating we were a family. Everyone around the table talking about their day, their hopes and dreams for the future. We were bonding like only family members can. For my mother, that was just as important as everyone having enough to eat! Well apparently, we weren't the only family who practiced this ritual. Our small church that we attended would regularly hold covered dish dinners after special services. Each family was encouraged to bring a few dishes of something they would cook up and everything was placed together in the kitchen of our churches community building. Now these dinners proved to be quite interesting because we certainly knew what to expect from our mothers dishes but to eat something made by someone else was a complete gamble. What would it taste like? Would it be good? Should I try this or that? After awhile we kinda knew what to eat and what not to eat. We knew who made good potato salad and who didn't. We knew who's chicken to avoid and who's too get two pieces of when you go through the line cause you knew it would be gone when you came back for seconds. I actually remember feeling sorry for the family members of some of the less reputable cooking ladies of the church. But more

importantly, as we all broke bread together we sat together. We talked. We asked about family members of our church friends and neighbors. We celebrated life because we were alive and healthy! We all had relatives that had attended that church who had gone on to be with Jesus who had sat down and ate in the same community building with their friends and families. We knew life was a gift and we celebrated it by breaking bread with our neighbors. Again, more bonds being formed. These covered dish meals spilled over to the cousins and aunt and uncles also. Family reunions were planned around big meals. Relatives catching up with each other. Seeing and holding the newest additions to families. Trying to remember all the names of the more recent one's that had come along. Our family was also expanding. My brothers and older sister got married and started their own families. All of our birthdays and holidays were spent gathering together to celebrate the best way we knew how. By eating! As our family grew, so did the size of our dinners. It was just too much cooking for my mother. Everyone starting pitching in and bringing different dishes. It was loud. It was chaotic. It was hard work, but we were together, teaching a new generation the importance of family. In between all these family dinners were the occasional travels to different restaurants. My father, being the hard working bread winner he was, loves a good meal at a good bargain. Good food at a good price was a big thumbs up! English Grill in Salisbury, Maryland saw our family at least once a month. Their all you can eat chicken was one of the best deals going and we sure liked to take advantage of it. Heck, we knew all the waitress's there on a first name basis's. Plate after plate of delicious fried chicken was devoured along with some of the best sweet potato biscuits you'd ever eat. They lost money when the Whaleys came a knocking. On vacation my father took pride in finding "the hole in the wall" which featured great food. It was like we had discovered a secret gem somewhere. "Look for the place with a full parking lot" was my dads best advice. I use that little trick myself these days. Of course not everyplace was a "gem". Some were down right nasty. We still laugh about the stories of some of our "finds". I look at myself today and I have a little of both mom and dads traits. I love to find "the hole in the wall". I love a good bargain. I also like to cook big meals and sit down with family and friends to "break bread". It saddens me to see shows or movies where the kids are eating in front of the TV and mom and dad are in another room. Those family bonds just aren't as strong when your not together sharing with one and another. I'm also saddened by all the chain restaurants out there and how so many of the mom and pop places have fallen by the wayside. Uniqueness is lost when the Olive Garden four states away tastes just like the one down the road from where you live. My advice to you? Turn off the TV and gather the family around the table to eat tonight. They'll thank you for it later.