This past Saturday was the day that my dad passed away 12 years ago. Today was the day of his funeral service. The weather today reminded me of what it was like the day he died. It was gorgeous. I mean it was absolutely the peak of Spring. Lilacs were in full bloom and everything was just so lush. It seemed like everything in nature on that particular day was just bursting. I remember sitting on the driveway with my sisters while we were waiting for the coroner and thinking that it seemed so surreal for the sky to be so blue, the clouds so fluffy and for the air to be thick with the smell of Spring flowers when we were all sitting there trying to process what happened.
I've been feeling a bit blue the past few days thinking about my dad and missing him. Some years this time comes and goes and I think about it but it's just another day and I think of fond memories of Dad. Then some years it's hard and hits you in the gut like you've been sucker punched. The real kicker is that there seems to be no way of knowing whether or not it's going to be a good year or a bad year. I've learned to just take it as it comes and not fight it. It is as it is supposed to be, or so it seems. Tonight Jim decided to take me to the Houston Inn to eat. I haven't been there since I lived at home and Mom and Dad and I went there all the time. That place has not changed one single bit and I absolutely LOVED it. It was like stepping back in history. Savannah tripped on the little ramp on the way in just like I always used to. I have so many good memories of going there with Mom and Dad. We would sit in the lounge while they had a cocktail and I munched on the individually wrapped Club crackers. The dining room is exactly the same. And I don't mean sort of the same, I mean EXACTLY the same. Same mirrors, same art, same china cups and plates with the old-timey red pattern on them, and same maroon paper place mats at each and every table.
Now, when we went there when I was a kid, I always thought it was a super fancy fine dining place. I mean, with all those gilded mirrors and shiny glass grapes how could you assume any less? As an adult I realized that what the Houston Inn has to offer is a kick-ass salad bar and very reasonably priced American comfort food. No frills needed. And if my mom is reading this, yes I had my pickled watermelon and lots of pickled beets. She knows how special that was for me.
What the Houston Inn offers is comfort. The waitresses know their customers names and they treat you like family. For me, it was like being a kid again. I could almost hear Dad going back and forth trying to make the tough decision between the frog legs and the liver and onions. I could hear mom talking about how it's all just so much food and that she would be happy just with the delights and tasty treats at the salad bar. All of us always ended up making so many trips to that salad bar that most of our meals ended up getting packed up in to go boxes for lunch the next day.
While we were there I told Savannah about how my dad loved stewed tomatoes so much that Lou Eves would keep them stocked just for him years after they were not a part of the official menu. But every time we went there was a little bowl there of stewed tomatoes for Dad. At Dad's visitation there on a pedestal amongst the flowers was a can of stewed tomatoes from his friend Lou Eves and that can made it into his coffin. Well that and about 40 pounds of other various items. :) It was nice sharing that story.
Going back there was the balm that my spirit needed. As if I got to step back into a living breathing moment in time and sit there with memories that were as warm an comforting as a favorite old robe. Okay, so it might not be super fancy fine dining but that's okay because that's not really in the budget right now anyway. But I got to take Savannah around and show her the gilded mirrors and my favorite paintings, and that big horse picture that's on the wall as you go into the bar. And every single bit of it was worth it. Even if I didn't have the frog legs, Dad, because no they don't taste like chicken.
So raise a glass to wonderful memories, wonderful family, wonderful places, and most of all to a wonderful world.
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