Monday, April 29, 2013

Remember the weekend

I have been working full time for 39 years and I have never ever, not once, taken the weekend for granted.  Each one is different.  Each one offers new opportunities to be rested, renewed, maybe a little wowed, a little loved or just engaged in something that pleases you.  Most weekends are not note-worthy in that super BIG kind of way.  Most are quiet, family centered times to get caught up on home, church, groceries, and some entertainment.  This weekend fits the typical mold, but as always, there were few quiet observations. 

I had seven wonderful hours to babysit my almost one year old granddaughter.  We did it all.  Went for a walk around the neighborhood, played, helped her eat a big dinner, played with the computer and watched TV.  We talked and then I watched her do her little tumbling exercises into pillows on the floor.  The biggest treat came later in the evening as Emma was winding down for the night.  She crawled to the "book basket" and proceeded to empty the basket, book by book.  Each book was carefully "read" page-by-page, deliberately, slowly.  After each 3-4 books, she would raise her book in the air for me to take and then she would raise her arms and motion with her hands to be picked up.  We would read those books together.  This continued until the basket was empty - about 15 books - a good 30 minutes.  Full focus.  No page un-turned.  Each book studied either on her own or with me.  Her focus reminded me of her mother's at that age.  Her love of the books is remarkable in this electronic world that she is already mastering.

 I could have sat there all night, or forever, to watch her enjoy those books.  Her thought processes are so advanced - deciding which books she would read on her own and which she would share with me.  This was my favorite time of the weekend.  A simple time that will be remembered always.

My other "moment" from the weekend also centers around a memory.  A childhood memory triggered by a Sunday afternoon ride to a legendary hamburg joint in the small town of Avon, Tom Wahl's.  As a child, our family sometimes made the same drive on a Sunday afternoon.  We never frequented the national burger chains but instead my parents would only patronize the local restaurants.  Tom Wahl's was always a favorite, despite the long drive.  The appeal for us, as kids, was the atmosphere at Wahl's.  It had the 50's style of grill ordering.  The wait staff behind the counter were all dressed in white shirts and would take your order on a little note pad.  They would then yell your order back to the guys on the grill.  Really yell.  We loved it.  The other major treat of going to Wahl's was homemade root beer in a frosted mug. We all got them.  By the time we navigated the throngs waiting for their food, the ice on the mug was floating in the root bear - making it doubly good.

So that's where my thoughts were this weekend when we made the wonderfully "long" drive on a beautiful spring afternoon, just to get an incredibly good burger.  We arrived to very short lines to give our order to the wait staff behind the counter who immediately put it into a computer terminal, took our credit card payment, and proceeded to give us an electronic paging device so that we could sit in our booth to wait for our order to come up.  After we had dispensed our own drinks and sat down to wait, several things struck me as odd. 

1.  I was drinking my root beer out of a paper cup.  Good root beer - no ice slush. I think we can fix this.  As I looked around the restaurant, I saw some used mugs near the dirty trays.  I think you can ask for a mug - but you must ask. 

2. The only sounds in the restaurant were the many full booths of families enjoying their lunches and their time at Tom Wahl's.  Thanks to all of the electronic improvements to the restaurant - there was no yelling of the orders, no yelling for people to come get their food.  No yelling.  It's a shame.  A little bit of Avon tradition is gone for the sake of stream-lining, efficiency, and upgrades.  The tradition now must be about the drive and the burgers.  Good things, but changed.

So, I cherish the weekends.  The memories they create.  The memories we carry with us forever.  Small moments that are associated with love and family.   


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