Recently I heard an interview with Lord John Alderdice who was instrumental in brokering peace in Ireland over the last decade. At one point he commented that peace was not a one-time event, but that they had to maintain a “perpetual table” where grievances and concerns could be addressed.

Perpetual table. Of course I remembered the big table at my mom and dad’s where attendance was mandatory unless one was out of town or highly contagious. Later it became the touchstone, the altar where we met together to claim our right to the family name and legacy.

It was there that important decisions were made, and burdens were shared. It was the place where we brought utter strangers – those who might become lifetime members, and those who were merely passing through.

Perpetual table. A year or two ago I instituted what I call “Monday at Mom’s.” Since my husband and one of our sons are professional musicians, Monday is the night when they are least likely to have rehearsals or gigs. And there is something about dinner on a lonely Monday night that brings light to a week of routine.

Often I send out a text on Sunday, and the first one to reply gets to choose the menu. It has become such a focal point in the Luzzi life that I hear from everyone if I forget or have to cancel. The rules are that you can bring guests as long as you let me know so that I can set a place at the table.

Perpetual table. I thought of a Mexican restaurant where I recently met my younger son, Joe. I was struck by the fact that the staff all greeted him when they walked by our table. It was moving to see with my own eyes that my son had grown beyond us, that for now, he was a regular at his own perpetual table as well as the family gatherings.

Perpetual table. Sometimes it’s a picnic table or a blanket thrown on the grass. Sometimes it’s the kitchen counter where hearts are bared and mended. Sometimes it’s a hamburger balanced on the console of a minivan. Whatever it is, life seems to sort itself out, and make more sense when we embrace the gathering.

Perpetual table. Breaking the bread. Sharing the wine. Do this in memory of me. Is there a better thing to do to preserve the connections, the sacrifice, the lifeblood of those who have gone before us, and perhaps guarantee that we will remain, if only in memory?

Perpetual table. It’s a concept that just might be the answer to all of the problems in the world. Now if we could just get people to come to the table.

Patty Luzzi has lived on the Eastside for 33 years. Readers can contact her at pattyluzzi@yahoo.com.