Come to the Table

This past Saturday night was a beautiful, magical night celebrating the graduation of Katherine Baldessari and several other of her Kapaun classmates at the Hand's home. We were honored to be invited, especially since the only family we knew was the Baldessaris.

The rain, which had earlier been predicted for the evening, held off.

I spent time in a deck chair enjoying the lights on the pool and listening to the mariachi band.

The kids had a good time hanging out. Here is Caleb and June with her sisters Genevieve and Katherine (the graduate) and Laurel.

I didn't get a good picture of Donna Baldessari, so here she is with her daughters at Bartlett Arboretum, when we celebrated Mother's Day with them last week. I have been wanting to write about when we first met them for a while now.

Caleb and June started dating in January. She told me that her mom was good at all things domestic. I was inclined to believe her, because Caleb was continually invited to large family dinners every Sunday evening, and he told tales of plentiful, amazing food.

My dad's cancer was progressing, and much of our attention in February and March was focusing on his illness and figuring how we could help Mom manage. We celebrated Easter in Hillsboro with my family on Saturday, when my sister and her family from South Dakota could be there.

My dad was so much worse we were realizing that hospice alone was not going to be enough for Mom, so my sister made the tough but in hindsight very good decision to stay, so her family went home without her.

On Sunday morning, Easter morning, we were back in Wichita. We went to church, but we were depleted. Our hearts were heavy with thoughts of my dad. We had no plans. Except for Caleb, who was having lunch with the Baldessari's. When we were walking out of church at 12:10 p.m., we noticed several urgent texts from Caleb. We had been invited for Easter dinner as well, eating at 12:30 p.m. He sent their College Hill address. We had seconds to decide. We'd been wanting to meet June's parents, and although we weren't sure we felt like socializing, we went, showing up empty-handed.

So we met June's parents, John and Donna, who immediately made us feel at ease with their welcoming and engaging conversation. We also met their oldest daughter Marie's boyfriend's parents, who were from Omaha, a city we used to love visiting when my sister Lois and her family lived there.

Donna had put two dining room tables together and covered both with white cloths. One table was oval, so she made sure her youngest daughter, Genevieve, and John sat on the awkward cracks. All 13 people had a place at the table, and we passed the large platters and bowls of food around, family-style.

(I found out later she had borrowed the table from neighbors who were out of town, neighbors who had left in a rush due to a family emergency of their own. When she called to ask permission to use the table, they said sure, but she would need to clear it, because the dishes from their last interrupted meal were still on it. So she did.)

The food was wonderful. Twice-smoked ham from someone in their parish who knows how to do it. A leafy spinach salad with fresh strawberries, a sweet potato casserole brought by the Omaha mom.  Incredible homemade blueberry cake with lemon frosting for June's birthday, which was coming up on Tuesday. The conversation flowed easily, and John invited all of us to come along on the various camping and hiking trips he was planning for the summer.
 Usually we host for Easter, inviting Dave's extended family and my parents. But this wasn't a usual Easter, and about a week earlier Dave had texted his family that we weren't able to do it. Attending a gathering where we had contributed nothing and had nothing to control was a different experience.
Sitting on the receiving end of such generous hospitality was humbling and healing. A welcome respite for our weary souls.