Just Part Of The Leftovers

Oh what a grand night this will be. It’s dinnertime.
The dinners I have sat through at this table have become uncountable.
Everyone will be here. This table will be full of faces.
Some are very young.
Some a little older.
Some very old.
And there are so many faces that cannot be seen.
We all sit down and the dinner is served. My, the table is full of food tonight.
I smile at the delicious sight but know I’m one that can’t be seen and will not eat.
The chatter is deafening.
Please pass the salt.
May I have the butter?
More Milk please?
Umm, another helping of mashed potatoes?
I look at my plate and it gleams in the kitchen light without a morsel of food.
It’s the same for all of us that sit at this table tonight that can’t be seen.
It’s always that way, every night.
I scan the faces at the table once more.
My boy Ken and girl Robin are there, now almost 30.
Hey, there are my older kids too, Bobby and Lori, now over 40.
I look carefully at each of my kid’s dinner plates.
Quite a bit left on Ken and Robin’s.
Not as much on Bobby and Lori’s.
At least leftovers will be saved from each of their plates tonight.
Finally everyone has had his or her stomach filled.
The host gathers the leftovers and puts them in small containers to save for another time.
There goes what’s left of Dad and Mom; a tiny bit of my old friend Jack is all that’s left.
Tiny pieces of old friends or first loves are gathered.
My turn is coming and that portion gets smaller with each dinner.
The container now is quite small.
I wonder how many dinners I have left?
Soon I will be gone in the dinner plates of all of the guest’s minds.
Another memory lost through the ticking of time.
Or maybe, what’s left on a plate will be just thrown away.
You see, this is how the others, you and myself will be forgotten.
Perhaps one of those sitting here will write down their thoughts from tonight.
By doing that, one of the memories will be kept for someone to read and puzzle over someday.
Is that the way old memories have been kept, whether in a book or on a stone?
The good news is that someday all of the unseen will return to one table for every meal forever.
Our souls will always nourish themselves.
They will all gather together for dinner.
They must.
Our souls are eternal.
The time will come when everyone eating at this dinner table tonight,
will eat with us, the leftover.
And so, relentless time goes on. Around and around. The seen become the unseen.
The count of leftovers grow, our dinner table of unseen grows
so there is always room for more.

©Bobby Smith November 2003

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