What Am I Supposed to Do If There’s No You
Happy birthday, Momma.
I wasn’t sure how to commemorate it. We all know I just couldn’t be at home, so I needed to run away to the Haus of Maus.
Which would have been a great trip if I didn’t have to work. But, those emails aren’t going to send themselves.
I took myself to see the new “Beetlejuice” movie yesterday. Which was so fun.
When I came out of the AMC, it was raining again. It has rained every day of my trip. And I have worn more ponchos and stepped in more “street soup” than I care to count.
In any event, I couldn’t stomach another wet poncho day, so I drove to I-Drive with the intention of going to Mellow Mushroom.
But as luck (my luck, so Irish) would have it, “Dead Mom” came on shuffle. Christ.
So I pulled into Delmonico’s and said what the hell.
I wasn’t thinking birthday. I could very clearly hear Momma saying, “Treat yourself. You’ll regret it if you didn’t. Use my green card, honey.”
I still carry her green debit card in my wallet. I closed that account but it sits with her driver’s license in a zippered pouch. I worry more about losing those more any of my active cards.
I got our favorite, the Dirty Martini. Unlike our last visit together, it was SO good. I had one and then had one for Momma.
I took a pic of the last booth we sat in. We picked it so that we could hide her little walker out of the way.
I think this one (below) was our favorite booth. Back corner by the bathroom. At least, it was the one we picked 90% of the time.
We often got the seasonal cheesecake. I always tried to get there in November because Momma loved pumpkin best.
As luck would have it, the September cheesecake is peanut butter. So I didn’t have to think twice about ordering it to celebrate Momma with.
As for food, well, that was the source of a nervous breakdown on my part.
We always sat at the bar because Delmonico’s has the most amazing bar menu ever. But I got there after happy hour, which, I didn’t know there was a time limit on our favorite snacks.
Seriously, I used to spend $150 on bar food and martinis for us. You could trust us to make up for any discounts.
My bartender was amazing. Drinks were amazing. I wish Mom’s last Dirty Martini there was amazing but at least the food was great.
But when I said may I have the filet sandwich with greens, she said I needed to order two.
I asked her to repeat that. She said I can do it but it’s past happy hour so I have to put an order in for two.
The tears fell straight out of my head. And wouldn’t stop.
I said, “I used to come here with my mom. We always ordered two.”
She said, “I’ll give you a moment.”
I thought about getting my sandwich and giving the other to the cats.
But I did something I never did there other than on a date. I ordered my own meal.
I got the filet, which was exquisite. And a side of penne marinara — mom’s favorite sauce/pasta, and we often took home an order so she could have it the next day. And of course greens.
I tipped the gal all the cash in my wallet. She looked over so grateful. I said you’ve put up with me so beautifully. Thank you for making this easier on me.
Everything over the past three months has been so hard. So freaking hard.
But I told Momma in my head, sitting at that bar without her was the hardest yet.
Harder than watching her die.
Harder than cremating her.
Harder than watching doctors and nurses and hospice workers treat her like a throwaway.
Harder than hearing her say no more treatments and having to sit quiet because it was her decision and my job was to support her since no one else would.
She will always be young and beautiful. I’ve said this before.
But now, I will say she will always be young and beautiful and sipping a Dirty Martini at the bar at our favorite Orlando steakhouse.
Better days …
Even if I never get back here, I’ll always remember her happy.