Lessons You Learn at the Dinner Table

Lessons at Dinner

As a single mother with a child of one, the dinner table is a little different than the one where I grew up eating. My daughter doesn’t have to fight to be heard, no one is picking on her and there’s a lack of built in entertainment.
Dinner at the Giambalvo house was always entertaining. On any given night at about 6:00 you could find the entire family in the kitchen seated around the table. The family consisted of my parents, my father’s parents, my 3 brothers and 2 sisters. In case my name hasn’t made the connection for you, my heritage is primarily Italian, from New York no less. We know how to talk. And yes, talking does involve the hands. My father is notorious for spilling a drink at the table. I do believe bets have been placed as to how long it would take Tony Giambalvo, Jr. to spill his drink. Dinner time was our time to connect through laughter, story telling and a sharing of the day’s events.
You never knew what would happen at the table. Sometimes my 2 older brothers would have gross contests or my brother Tom would see how often he could get my brother Kenny to laugh while drinking his milk. Of course the result would be milk coming out of Kenny’s nose. Eventually mom and dad separated Kenny and Tom at the dinner table. Their separation did not spare me from my oldest sister complaining about my breathing. (At this time I still had my tonsils and adenoids so eating was a challenge at times; that is if I wanted to breathe while chewing.)
Growing up in a large family you learn to share, respect each other’s space, fight for what you believe in and listen. Sometimes listening was a challenge because, as I’m sure you can imagine, sometimes being heard over the roar of the crowd was difficult. You couldn’t exactly wait your turn to be heard, you just had to jump in. But, when you’re just jumping in you don’t always listen to the other person because you have an agenda…you want to be heard.
On one particular evening there must have been a heated topic being discussed because everyone was talking. Nana decided to throw in her 2 cents. One problem, Nana had Parkinson’s disease which caused her difficulty in projecting her voice. I watched her repeat herself twice and when I looked around the table I noticed no one heard her. I put my self in Nana’s place and felt her frustration with not having the strength to be heard. I adjusted myself on the bench, sat up straight and announced that Nana had something to say and everyone needed to be quiet. I was only 7 or 8 at the time, but, my voice carried above the rest and everyone stopped to listen. At this moment I made a promise to myself to pay attention to other people and take the time to listen. I have learned a great deal from my family, but this lesson was one of their greatest gifts and they didn’t even know they had given it to me.
As a retail manager for over 20 years and now as a certified family and life coach I’m thankful for what I’m able to bring to the table. My family gave me a gift just by participating at the dinner table and learning at a young age what it means to be truly heard.
My challenge has been and continues to be teaching my child what I learned at the dinner table. I am able to pass on what I learned by living where I have family in town so that my daughter has a connection outside of our home. And, in family tradition, when we’re all together, we still meet around the table. Dominique, my daughter, knows that if we are getting together with family food will be involved. But, the interactions don’t happen often enough. So, I make certain that she and I (and recently, my boyfriend) sit together for meals and share stories about our day. I enjoy entertaining and insist that Dominique joins us for dinner even if at times it’s all adults. Of course we have to be careful of the topics we choose for conversation, we manage, and she gets the benefit of observing how groups interact, even when some disagree on a topic. But, most importantly, Dominique has learned that when she has something to say, people at our table will stop to listen
I take great comfort in knowing that my daughter has adults she can turn to when in need. She has a sensitivity to others’ feelings (most of the time) and takes the time to listen, I’m certain this will stay with her and benefit her greatly in the future.
How does your family come to the table? Email me your story at denise@parentandfamilylifecoaching.com