The Longest Week
Photo by Nick Scheerbart on Unsplash
When Valentine’s Day approaches on the calendar I start to feel anxious. It was the last day I saw my mother alive, she died five days later. It is also my least favorite day in the restaurant business. Over the years it’s signified to me a single day to celebrate love (which seems silly), a day filled with unrealistic expectations, and a build-up that often ends in a let-down for so many. I’ve fielded frantic phone calls from men who forget to book a table, nasty emails that I would not bump someone else to accommodate their request, and palmed $50 or $100 for a better spot in the dining room. I’ve seen and heard it all.
This year this week has just been particularly hard. I’ve been seeing memories pop up on Facebook of various trips we’ve taken over this break (my kids are always off school this week) and I desperately miss traveling. We haven’t gone anywhere but the grocery store since last February. Since we are usually on a trip this week I’m distracted about my mother but not this year.
There was a massive snowstorm in Seattle at the beginning of the week that the kids just loved. For me, I enjoyed it for a day but soon felt annoyed with the constant laundry, wet clothes, and wet dog in my house.
Trump Plaza being imploded.
Wednesday morning it started to catch up with me. I watched the building that basically built my career be imploded on national TV. When I graduated from college I was offered an incredible position at Trump Plaza in Atlantic City. I was 21, young, fresh, and ready to work. I worked in all 13 of the restaurants in the hotel, in banquets, beverage, accounting, and cooked in the kitchen. I can’t even begin to describe how much I learned in that building and from so many talented people. Although I don’t agree with Trump the man or the politician, that job made my career. I know for certain I would not be where I am today without it. I was surprised that I had such a visceral reaction to watching the building go down, after all, it’s just a building. But in some ways I feel like it’s a metaphor for the past year; everything has just come crashing down around us. I’m just hanging on trying to do the best I can for myself and my family.
This leads me to later in the morning on Wednesday. But let me back up for a minute…For the past 8 years, I’ve been working for a restaurant group in Seattle primarily as the event planner. I’m thankful to work in such a cool spot with incredible food, wine, and cocktails. My immediate team is rad. They are a group of super cool guys that are like more brothers to me. I’m very close with my Chef and I feel lucky in a lot of ways. I worked with the owners of the restaurant group to get them to come out to the ‘burbs and open a spot. Well, we did in November 2018 and I was part owner!! This was a dream realized for me. I was beyond thrilled to be a bigger part of something, to build a legacy for my kids, and to bring a restaurant I was so proud to be a part of to the community I’d lived in for 12 years. Things did not go as we had planned and when the Pandemic hit it was a crushing blow to us. We’d barely been open a year and then had to shut down. In many, many conversations we were trying to figure out a way to save the business. How could we re-open successfully in this new world we are in right now? When, if ever would things return to “normal?” Finally, after some pretty painful conversations, we decided to pitch a partnership to a brewery in Seattle.
On Wednesday this week, we announced our partnership with the brewery. The response has been, for the most part, positive. But, I still feel like I failed. Like I failed at building a restaurant with longevity, that my community didn’t understand what we were doing because I didn’t communicate it clearly to them. But, mostly I feel like I, very publicly, failed myself. I will pick up the pieces and work hard to make this new concept a success but holding a mirror up to yourself is not easy. I have always succeeded. I always find a way to make it work. But, with this, I couldn’t do it. So kind of like the Plaza all the pieces are falling apart and it’s a feeling I’m not familiar with and I don’t particularly like.
And now we are at today, the 28th anniversary of my mother’s death. I was 14 years old when my mother died. As my son nears that age I can only imagine how terrified she was to leave not only her two older sons but her young, teenage daughter behind. The anguish she must have felt would have been overwhelming to anyone. But to know you are going to die and not be able to do anything about it; I just can’t even fathom that. It’s so small compared to a restaurant not working out.
I remember that day so vividly which is strange because I really don’t remember much more about that year. I remember exactly what I was wearing and where I was when my grandmother (her mother) came in to tell me that her organs were failing and we needed to get to Seattle. How the day played out is a story for another day but the details as I remember them are seared into my brain.
I woke up this morning, lit her yahrzeit candle, and cried into my coffee. I was praying my kids would stay asleep long enough for me to have a few moments to myself (they did, thankfully). I had my moment and then my son strolled downstairs looking for breakfast and then the day started. I booked four weddings today and stayed busy with work. I walked four miles with the puppy and still need to get a ride in on the Peloton.
I miss my Mom. I think of her often and all the things she is missing. She has six incredible grandchildren whom she would have loved and doted upon. I wonder what she would have thought about this past year with all the turmoil and uncertainty in our world. And, since she worked in healthcare what she would have thought and done, about COVID-19. I wish she was here to give me advice and tell me that it’s all going to work out in the end.
Now, I’m going to pick myself up, get my ride in, and make dinner. I know everything will work out in the end and things will be as they should be. But I’m so happy this week is over.