Dinner Time Memories.

Once upon a time, we usually ate together, as one, as a family l, it never mattered what happens during the day. It doesn't matter if Dad beat you, it doesn't matter if you've been punished in school, and it never mattered if mum had shouted at you in the kitchen, by 8pm, we all must be seated around our brown rectangular shape dining table. That was how it was, even if you are not hungry, you must be present at the table. Sit, eat, and after, we talk a little. Another thing is, you just do not eat your meat, fish, egg or whatever has been put on your food—you must not eat it until you are done eating, if you do, then just know you will be receiving an earful, also you don't have the right to continue eating.

Those times were really good times, that also was the best moment for Mom to sneak in her advice, preachings and all, and dad also would throw playful jabs at us as while telling us stories on most days. We teased each other and that way, we bonded, guess what... it never felt forced. It was just that thing that held us together.

Now, it has become a memory. We’re all older now, all of my older siblings have their own homes, some already have their families. And even me, I’m mostly away, as a guy you have to always be on the move as if life is chasing you. Our last born also is in school. Only mum and dad are left at home, and now, they hardly eat at home anymore. Mum's cooking base has now been shifted to her shop, that's where she and her husband spend the best/most part of the day. They cook, eat, and gist there before closing for the day. Sometimes when I visit home, I do feel like a guest in a space that used to be my home, everything remains the same but unfamiliar.

Even on days when I am around, I usually return late at night, and most times I'm tired, sometimes I'm already full. And even if I haven’t eaten, I prefer eating alone. I don’t know when and how it became a habit, but now I enjoy eating alone. I take my food to my room, away from everyone and everything. I don't know why, maybe it’s because of the silence or the absence of people that used to fill our home.

Of a truth....I miss it, I miss the laughter, I miss my mum's side eyes, I miss the stories, I miss times when the first person to finish eating has the right to dig in into anyone's food. I guess that’s life, people grow and things are bound to change. Maybe a day will come, when we all visit home, when we all will sit around that table, eat, gist and talk about the old times. Until then, here I'm holding on to those memories.

All pictures were generated using AI.

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