Haluskanating Over the Blue Danube

“George, we’ve got company coming. Set another place. I’ll use a salad plate again.” 

There was always room for company at Grandma and Grandpa Haluska’s table. It wasn’t fancy or very large, but it was always set properly, with placemats or a tablecloth, and Grandma’s beautiful blue and white china. 

My kids would say I’m about to start “Haluskanating,” as I  take a sentimental journey over the Blue Danube-not the river, the china pattern my Grandmother so lovingly collected.

George and Edith, who were both small in stature, were known for having big hearts and an open invitation for dinner guests. It seemed like there was an endless stream of relatives, neighbors, old friends, new friends, long lost cousins, and even their accountant happened to “drop by” around suppertime. 

Coincidence? I think not.  

Who wouldn’t want to come to the Haluska’s for family dinner. For many of those guests, it was their only chance to see how large, loving Catholic families lived.  Grandma and Grandpa’s marriage produced five children, fifteen grandchildren and many more great grandchildren. I was the oldest of the grandkids, so was awarded a seat at the adult table earlier then most. If that Blue Danube China could talk like the tea set from Beauty and the Beast, oh the tales they could tell.

Every topic that was considered controversial somehow found its way to that cozy dining room at 4233 Quincy Street. Politics, religion. Religion, politics. You get the picture. The conversations definitely became spirited from time to time. Voices were raised. Tempers flared. Emotions ran high. There were disagreements and debates that often spilled over into dessert. 

But there was always some sort of comfort in that Blue Danube China. Especially the place settings that had been carefully glued back together.  It was a reminder of how strong our family bond was, nothing could break that. Not even a disagreement over politics or religion. There was always more love and laughter than arguments at that table. Spilled milk was never a big deal.  Definitely not worth crying over. But if you did get yelled at, that just meant you were family, by blood or by choice, and you always had a seat at that table.

Oh, how I miss those large, loud family gatherings at Grandma and Grandpa’s house. Those lively debates and discussions over the Blue Danube China gave me the courage to always speak my mind.  Edith and George are both gone now, but never forgotten. They were the heart and soul of our family and gave me the foundation I needed to raise my own family.

Now, I’m proud to carry on the tradition of serving my family on the Blue Danube China. Somehow, it feels like Grandma and Grandpa are right there beside me. I can almost hear Grandma asking me to set another place for an unexpected guest.

I’d be happy to.