Kukka by Sally Kilgore: Ammi’s Table

Rockwall, TX (November 10, 2023) – My grandparents were Finnish immigrants, settling on the Keeweenaw Peninsula, in the Copper Country, Upper Peninsula of Michigan. “Ukki”, as we called my grandfather, worked as a copper miner and owned a small property in Allouez; a home for his family with a barn across the lane, cows and a horse. He died when my mother was eighteen, so I never knew him, all remembrance of him came via my mom. The life of a copper miner was not one of ease, and he strived steadfastly to provide a good life for my grandmother, whom my sister and I knew as “Ammi.” (Pronounced more like “Emmi”.) Ammi had eleven children. My mother, being the baby of the family, was doted on by her parents. My parents married and moved to Detroit, a good distance from the Upper Peninsula. In the summers we spent time at the home in Allouez, my mom helping to care for her ailing mother. Ammi died when I was a young child and my recollection of her is vague.

I have a few physical pieces from my grandparents’ lives, including some pieces of my grandmother’s dinnerware – cream colored English made crockery, with a pie fluted edge and dainty blue leaves twining around each piece. My mom and I, in turn, each chose blue and white patterns for our own dishes. I treasure seeing Ammi’s and my mother’s dishes in the china cupboard each day, as I use my own sets of blue and white, one named Finlandia and the other, Iittala, designed with whimsical Finnish folklore depicted on each piece. As well, my grandfather’s desk sits outside my bedroom door, a dainty piece from which, my mother told me, he paid all his bills.

In my living room is a round wooden table, with a pedestal and rolling coasters. A most precious piece from my Finnish grandparents’ home, I recall playing under the table as a tiny child. My memory is of a huge table serving as a deep den from which I played, nibbling snippets of raw meat, as my grandmother, mother, and aunt made pasties. A Cornish meat pie adopted by many Finns, pasties traveled well as a hot dinner in a miner’s lunch bucket.

Sometime after my grandmother’s death, the family home was emptied and sold. My mom and dad spotted the table on the burn pile in pieces, ready to be used for firewood. My dad rescued the pieces and transported them back to Detroit, where he fixed the warping and restored the table, though the pedestal had to be cut shorter due to water damage. There is a crack down the tabletop, just off center. I view that crack fondly. A piece, all the more precious, having been brought back to life as an act of love. The table stands on rolling casters, a warm piece of the past, albeit not as big as my little girl memory!

The table served various roles in my parents’ homes, as a living room table, in my parents’ bedroom, where it was always stacked with books and devotional materials, for many years as a breakfast nook table; though it sat a bit low from the restoration, we hunched over a smidge for meals, a perfect height for coffee.

In later years, it served as a side table in Mom’s living room, laden with family photos, a crystal lamp, a small clock I had brought back from England. The table, and mom’s other most precious pieces, moved to a senior apartment with her and later, into our master bedroom, where we brought mom for her final years, holding her frames filled with images of loved ones, her lamp, books, always an emery board and a tissue.

Happily, the table stayed with me. It serves as my favorite piece in our living area, filling a corner, the perfect height for a lamp, between the sofa and a comfy chair.

The round wooden table is a daily reminder of the dear love of my mother and her parents, and of the love Ukki felt for Ammi, providing her with beautiful things, in the remote and stunningly beautiful part of the country she immigrated to. This beloved table, passed down through generations, holds a special warmth in our home today, connecting me to the past.

Sally Kilgore is a resident of Fate, Texas, transplanted from Rowlett, across the lake. She is married to her long-time flame, Judge Chris Kilgore, (aka The B.O.B.) When not writing, gardening, filling in at the local flower shop or hanging out with grandkids, Sally devotes her time to serving Bob Kilgore, a well sized, Tuxedo cat with panache. You can contact Sally at SallyAKilgore@gmail.com . Please visit her website: SallyAKilgore.com