In my house, we eat dinner together. We light candles for the table, and set out real dishes. We cook, often with produce grown at the farm. There are, of course, always greens.
It’s not always easy. As the kids get older, their commitments pull them in different directions, and the tight-knit weave of our family loosens a little to accommodate. It has to. It’s a part of growing up.
At the same time, though, we make time to do important things together. We read books out loud in the evenings. We’ve loved Wonder and A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. We go on road trips together and spend time outdoors, enjoying what nature offers.
I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately: about the choices we’ve made to make the family time we envision possible. It’s a constant, delicate balance. As with any balance, we can’t hold it forever. Sometimes we have to step down and reorient. After we do, though, we get back up and find the balance again. (And again, and again.) I’ve come to realize that it’s not how long I can hold the balance that matters, but rather how willing I am to get back up and try again.
Tonight, we’ll light candles and set the table. We’ll talk about how the day went. We’ll share silly stories. We’ll find our balance, again.
Farmer & Cultivator
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