Sitting across the table from you- a favorite place to be. From late night trips to Friendly’s Restaurant when I was a young teenager, to sitting at my dining room table as an adult, and sitting at a diner table here lately. The days and decades though they’ve passed, as we sit and talk and laugh and cry, it’s as if a day has never turned to night. We’ve been sitting at that table all along.
At a table where stories unfold,
A daughter and her father, together they hold,
Memories shared, in laughter and grace,
This is her favorite, most treasured place.
Years have woven a tapestry bright,
Of wisdom and love, in soft candlelight.
At forty-seven, her heart still sings,
Beside her dad, where time gently clings.
His eyes shine with tales of days long ago,
While she listens, enraptured, to his gentle glow.
At sixty-nine, he’s her compass, her guide,
In his presence, her worries subside.
Their bond, a masterpiece, painted with care,
A table their canvas, each moment a prayer.
In this sacred space, their souls find retreat,
Father and daughter, a circle complete.
