This Table Holds More Than Food
I sat at my grandmother’s table as a child feet swinging beneath my chair, as clattering plates and voices intertwined.
I didn’t realize how much those meals would come to mean, how the table would feel smaller as chairs emptied, as laughter faded into echoes.
Now I recreate those meals in clay, preserving what once was, honoring those who remain and holding space for those who are gone.
Two chairs at either end. Not empty, just quiet. The living fill the space between.
Each plate holds a favorite, a meal they loved best different for each, yet all familiar
Each placemat reflects pieces of them, symbols fixed to fabric, telling the story of who they are
This table holds more than food. It carries memory, love, the weight of all we’ve shared.
MerKGarcia 