A booth at the front windows

  I went out to dinner at Red Lobster with my father the other evening.   This has been my   Dad’s favorite restaurant for several years.  Before my mom died in September of 09, they used to come here pretty often.   I think they would come for a late lunch after the business crowd headed back to their offices and shops.  

  It was good to be able to spend some time together, just the two of us.  We talked about lots of stuff, including politics and current events.  I think the person in my family with the closest political and social view to me is my Dad.   He gave me an update on his progress, or lack thereof, on a 2000 piece puzzle he’s been working on for a few weeks.  He complained that all the pieces were the same shape and the picture had a ton of the same color, which both combined to make progress a challenge.

  We arrived at the restaurant early, not quite “early bird” early, but still before 5;00pm. When the hostess asked where we wanted to sit, Dad was quick with a request to get a booth at the front windows.  My Dad is not someone who seems very particular about most things, so I was a bit amused by him having a preference.  As we worked our way through our meals and cold draft beers, we noticed out the window that the pace of the rain had picked up causing incoming diners to make a mad dash from their cars to the restaurant door.  As he looked out the window Dad told me that my Mom used to like to sit in the booths at the front windows so she could watch the world outside pass by and enjoy the sun light.  With a lump in my throat, I understood my Dad’s quick choice of the booth we were sitting in.

I love my Dad and miss my Mom.