A Legacy Of Love And Key Lime
When I was in high school, my grandparents moved to my town. Every Friday, we had dinner at their house.
Over the years, my siblings and I moved out of town, my grandfather passed, and my grandmother moved into a senior care facility. Friday night dinners continued with her and my parents, though now they rotated through the four or so restaurants that she liked. When we grandchildren visited, we knew that Friday night dinners were sacrosanct.
Fast-forward a few more years. My grandmother has died, and we all convene at my parents’ house to support my dad. On Friday night, we all go out for dinner at one of her favorite restaurants.
Waitress: “Good evening, folks! Big party!”
Mom: “Oh, you’ve waited on us before. Do you remember the older woman who’s usually with us?”
Waitress: “Sure!”
Mom: “She died earlier this week. So we’re all gathered here to celebrate.”
The waitress goes silent, and her eyes go huge.
Mom: “Her life! We’re here to celebrate her life. My husband was her son, and these are all her grandchildren. This was one of her favorite places to go, so it only seemed right.”
Waitress: “Well… I’m so sorry for your loss, but this is very sweet. Dessert is on me tonight.”
My grandmother was an incredible person — definitely worth celebrating! We closed out the meal with her favorite: key lime pie. It was a bittersweet evening, but at least I can look back on that gaffe and smile.
