I never left the table.

Even when everyone else left, I stayed.

From when I first sat at a table as a toddler, till now at sixty-four years old, I stayed when everyone else left.

It wasn’t and isn’t a conscious thing I do, I just do it. That’s me.

It was always about disagreements. Family would get up and leave, and leave somebody else behind.

I always stayed with the one left behind.

Even when the one left behind left, I stayed,

even as a child, alone in the kitchen, everybody else in bed.

I stayed.

Finally, I’d climb down from the chair at the kitchen table.  I’d look in on the one everyone left.

When I knew everyone was sleeping, I’d go to bed, leaving the kitchen light on.

I’d wake up in the morning and everybody was fine.

Even now in my mind’s eye I saw and see myself always there.

Always at the table.

Though someone could say I was alone, I never felt it, not for one second.

I don’t feel it now. And I still do the same thing.

It’s just me and the way I am.

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