Our family was started at a little local restaurant unlike any I have ever visited anywhere else. It is a proper place which serves a five-course meal of English fare. My father took my mother there on one of their earliest dates – a fancy affair of expensive food and ballroom dancing. They were dressed to the nines and she felt like a princess. She was impressed.
This little restaurant, The Five Alls, became a part of our family tradition, a legacy that carried on through their marriage – all “important” events being celebrated there – and on into the lives of their children as we have grown. Upon their divorce, my mother became sickened at the idea of attending this place that had become a part of her life. It was as if dad got custody of the restaurant and mom was choosing to give up her visitation rights.
For a long time, she would not even consider dining there. We tried to drag her there but every time we even mentioned it, she resolutely put her foot down saying, “Absolutely not. I will not go. Too many memories there and it makes me sad.” So we left it at that.
Five years later, without telling her where we were going, we made reservations and picked her up for her birthday. She was hesitant as we walked up the cobbled sidewalk toward the door, a visible sheen of perspiration standing out on her forehead. Once we were inside, though, the warmth and aroma ensconced her and she eased into her own experience of the place for the first time in her life.
The years have brought us to this door many a time for birthdays and wedding parties and for those times that we have just wanted to enjoy an excellent meal. Tonight we will celebrate Mom’s birthday there and this time, I’m sure, she will dance her way up the sidewalk.
