I don’t think I cried more in one day ever than I did on 9/11/01. From the minute I turned on the TV that morning until I finally fell asleep late that night I had tears streaming down my face.
I had just left my job in May to stay home with our three children, Ben then one year old, Jack then three, and Zoe then eight years old. I was home alone when I got the news and I just couldn’t get my head around the violence of it all. I was worried about all the children who were left at daycare that morning. What if both parents were killed and there would be no one to pick them up? I kept thinking, nothing good will come of this terrible terrorist attack, but I was wrong.
It seemed, to me anyway, families came closer together. The church pews were filled that Sunday, American flags started popping up everywhere and at least three Christmas letters stated that one parent was now going to stay home with the kids. In the stunned aftermath, we grew stronger. Part of that was being together and teaching our children the importance of families in America. For our family we sat down together for dinner— breaking bread.
I just read on a blog a lady is keeping that it is her goal to not eat out for an entire week straight. Seven days, no eating out….this is a blog goal? In my entire childhood I can name numerous weeks and maybe even months where we never ate out.
Sure, we had dinner with neighbors and friends in their homes, but it was rare and uncommon to eat out. We ate at home. Before school it was breakfast, after school we made a snack and we had dinner the minute my dad walked in the door at 5 p.m.
My mom packed my dad lunch every day in his lunch box, so I know he wasn’t “grabbing a burger somewhere at lunch” either. You might argue that eating a school lunch would qualify as “eating out” but the lunches then were basically home cooked food that my mom would have served us at home anyway, like creamy macaroni and cheese, beans and hot dogs and real mashed potatoes with hamburger gravy. My favorite!
Did you know that we have a “National Eat Together” week on the calendar? Seriously a week designated that we focus on eating together as a family. Is eating together such a rarity that we need a national holiday to encourage us to break bread with our families?
As a teenager I distinctly remember being invited to do something with friends that would have meant I wasn’t home for dinner three nights in a row and my dad said no. It was too much to do in one week and I needed to be home for supper.
There was an eerie quiet if someone was missing at dinner. It felt weird to look at an empty chair at the table, because we always sat in the exact same spots—my dad to my right, my brother to my left and my mom straight across.
I am so sad that family dinnertime might become a thing of the past. An old-fashioned ideal. For crying out loud, I am too young to have an oldfashion ideal – aren’t I?
If any good can come on this now 10th anniversary of 9/11 let it be that we grow closer to our families—let’s start my eating together.
As a child my family’s menu consisted of two choices: take it or leave it.
Buddy Hackett
Taste of Home columnist Sandy (Anderson) Holthaus lives on a farm in South Haven, MN with her husband, Michael, and their children Zoe, Jack and Ben. Her heart remains on the North Shore where she grew up with her parents, Art and LaVonne Anderson of Schroeder. She enjoys writing about her childhood and mixes memories with delicious helpings of home-style recipes.
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