Recently, I was in Bernalda, my dad's ancestral home town in

In these words of Roman Coppola, one hears not merely a description of a journey to Bernalda, nor of a palazzo newly reborn into a hotel. What resounds here is the eternal echo of heritage, the reclaiming of one’s roots, and the weaving together of past and present. The stones of his father’s ancestral town do not only house walls and chambers, but memories of centuries, whispered in the air of southern Italy. To celebrate a wedding within such a space is to proclaim: what was once old has become the foundation of what is new.

The ancients often taught that to honor one’s forefathers is to grant them immortality. Coppola’s father, in restoring a forgotten palace, has restored the dignity of his lineage. What greater triumph can a son proclaim than to say: “Here, in the place of my ancestors, life has begun anew.” This echoes the Roman belief that families endure not by blood alone, but by the careful tending of tradition and place. Just as Aeneas carried his father Anchises upon his back when fleeing burning Troy, so too does this act carry forward the weight of ancestry into a new dawn.

Consider the example of the Florentine Medici, who turned their family homes into centers of art, wisdom, and renewal. Their palazzi were not mere buildings, but beacons of memory and continuity. In the same way, the Coppola family’s labor in Bernalda does not end in stone and mortar, but radiates into the hearts of future generations. For the wedding of a daughter, held amidst the glow of such ancestral honor, becomes more than a celebration of love: it is a sanctification of belonging.

Yet, there is also a lesson for us, children of a restless age. The world urges us ever onward, to forget the soil from which we sprang, to chase after horizons unknown. But this tale reminds us that the soul must sometimes turn backward, to drink from the wells dug by those who came before us. For in the union of memory and celebration, of heritage and renewal, the present finds its strength and the future finds its course.

Thus, the words of Roman Coppola stand not merely as a private recollection, but as a teaching for all: cherish the soil of your ancestors, restore what has fallen into ruin, and let the joy of your families be crowned by the grandeur of memory. In so doing, life is not a fleeting passage, but an eternal flame handed down through generations.