Family Forward: A meeting of the minds, a vision for a better tomorrow

United we create more than we could alone.

The fam…

Last Saturday, my mother called a family meeting.

Not one of those casual gatherings or an invitation to a holiday dinner.

No, this was something different, something deliberate, something urgent, something hopeful.

The message arrived in a group text with her four sons. A simple yet commanding line got our attention amid busy lives and countless obligations.

“Please let me know which hour(s) you will be available tomorrow for an ‘all hands on deck’ one-hour initial Zoom meeting,” she wrote.

Reading those words, I felt a mix of curiosity and a strange warmth.

“This is why my mind is so driven!” my brother Joe replied. “Whose momma sets up Zoom meetings? Lol.”

My intrepid 77-year-old mother — fluent in faith and FaceTime — that’s who. And she made it clear: this was important.

Coordinating all of us for anything beyond a text thread is rare, and nearly impossible. We are scattered — across states, different stages of life and pulled in various directions by life’s demands. So for all of us to be present, even virtually, on a Sunday afternoon? That alone felt like a small miracle.

The faces on the screen weren’t just relatives. We were the threads of a fabric, stretched thin but still holding together, ready for mending.

My oldest brother Myron opened the meeting with an invocation, a quiet moment of gratitude and intention that immediately settled the room.

Then, as if we were sitting around our old kitchen table, we took turns speaking, youngest to oldest, sharing updates on our lives and families. These weren’t just check-ins; they were threads weaving us closer, reminding us that each of our individual journeys mattered to the whole.

After that warm opening, we shifted tone. We went around again, this time from oldest to youngest. We tried placing the past in its proper place. Each of us spoke from the heart about three things: one thing we wished we’d achieved by now, one thing we wished we could have done better and one thing, besides our children, we were most proud of.

There was honesty in those moments, vulnerability that might have been awkward in any other setting but here, with family, felt like strength.

Then Mom took the floor.

Her voice was steady but filled with emotion. She explained why she chose this moment to bring us together. She reminded us that for generations, our family has only gathered for milestones — mostly birthdays of the elders and, sadly, funerals. Important moments, yes, but fleeting and reactive.

Mom wants to be proactive.

She recently had a scare with her blood pressure, which jolted her into a new clarity. She was reminded to take care of the things that matter most.

Because an entire clan of Mayberrys is depending on her.

Her four sons have given her 12 grandchildren — although we affectionately blame Cliff, with his six children, for being largely responsible.

And because Mom understands that her words will live on in our hearts and minds long after she’s gone. She understands her time is finite, and the legacy she wants to leave is not just memories but momentum.

“My prayer,” she said, “is that you all advance from here.”

She outlined specific goals for this vision she labeled “Project ‘35” — a commitment to grow, connect and support each other with consistency and purpose over the next decade.

Not just lofty ideas but concrete goals: routine check-ins, monthly Zoom meetings, impressing upon our children to do the same.

It was a blueprint to strengthen our family beyond what time, distance and, frankly, distractions have allowed.

Why did this matter so deeply?

Because as much as we treasure our independence and autonomy, the freedom to chase our dreams and define our own lives, there’s a risk in drifting apart.

Each of us is capable, skilled and driven. We pour ourselves into earning paychecks, building careers and raising families. But if we live and work as four separate families instead of one united whole, we diminish the collective power we hold.

That one hour on Sunday was more than a meeting. It was a declaration.

We love our independence, but we need each other’s strength, too. We need the power that comes from being united, from being consistent, from carrying forward a shared vision.

By the time the Zoom call ended, I felt something shift inside me — a quiet but undeniable pull toward something bigger than me. A renewed sense of belonging. A deeper sense of responsibility.

This isn’t just about family gatherings anymore. It’s about building something enduring, a future rooted in our shared past but not bound by it.

Mom’s vision for “Project ‘35” is simple and profound: we move forward, not alone, but together. Stronger. More intentional. United.

Not just for ourselves, but for the generations to come.

And that is a future worth building.