There was a time — not that long ago — when this family almost let go of what mattered most. Not the land, though that was at risk too. The table.
The table isn’t a piece of furniture. It’s the practice of gathering. Of sitting down with people who share your blood and your burden and your blessing, and actually talking. Not texting. Not posting. Talking.
Families scatter. That’s what happens. People move for jobs, for love, for survival. And slowly, the phone calls get shorter. The reunions get smaller. The stories get thinner. Until one day, you realize you don’t really know the people you came from anymore.
We almost got there. But we caught it. And now, every gathering, every Discord call, every trip back to the land — it’s us choosing the table again. It’s us saying: we will not be a family that forgot each other.