Sometimes they were round, sometimes square, sometimes rectangular. I’m talking about the kitchen tables, of course!
There was always a pot of coffee brewing with its rich aromatic flavor pervading the air. Then, too, there was the bluish haze of cigarettes, as four of the five enjoyed smoking.
The setting was the cozy kitchens of the five Deveney girls, and the focus was always the kitchen table. Around the table they would sit and chat, starting with their children but ending with wise and fascinating views on global affairs.
What camaraderie, what laughter, what support they rendered to one another. They were all intelligent, irrepressible, fine-looking women who were far ahead of their time in the late 1940s. How I admired their art of conversation, and was loath to leave, even to be with friends of my own age. How I miss it all.
There was my mother, Thelma, and my aunts: Dot, Evie, Margey and June. There were 26 children born to them, of which I was the eldest. It was always such a treat to be an occasional addition to the gab-fest ’round the table. Their mother, my Meme, was a frequent addition, too.
The sisters were so close in their love and support. While not always in complete agreement, they were never disagreeable. Now and then, there’d be a wee bit of gossip to delight my young ears. Meme contributed “ditties.”
I can imagine four of the Deveney girls up there, talking the ears off the angels.
Eighty-nine years young is my Aunt June. I know she misses that very special bond that sisters share, like beautiful links in a daisy chain but with the strength of an iron chain.