Gratitude Sunday
The weirdest part of yesterday (Antonio Banderas and Carlos Santana doing a duet at the Oscars gets second place) happened at the mall.
Outside the mall, actually. But mallish.
There's apparently a new wave of mall design, at least up here. I don't know what it's called, or if it's called anything, but there seems to be a desire to turn the whole experience into more of a downtown feeling thing. So now we have this open-air situation, avoiding that claustraphobia thing that makes me grind my teeth and want to run screaming through Sears. It's probably just me.
Anyway, there's a restaurant there, at mall, in the back, outside of the Food Court, that Julie loves and where she wanted to go for her birthday. Julie's friend, Jan, and I had been communicating for a couple of weeks about just what to do for the big Five-Oh. We tossed around a couple of ideas but I finally decided to keep it simple, knowing my wife and that Sundays are sort of exhausting anyway. So we arranged a minor surprise; Jan and her husband, Phil, two of our oldest friends, would meet us at the restaurant for lunch.
Since Julie wasn't in on this (surprises don't work well if they know in advance), we had to be a little sneaky and do some Mission: Impossible work after church, me whispering into my cellphone ("Leave now. Go.") in the basement, but it was fine.
Phil asked if they could bring along Katie and Chris, two of their kids (hardly kids; 20 and 16), which was fine, it's family.
John decided to pass on lunch, having been up late and still tired, so Julie and I headed for the restaurant. It was another beautiful, sunny and warm day, so we were walking along, admiring the weather, when we heard a voice call out. Jan and Phil were sitting on a bench outside the restaurant, soaking up the sun, waiting for our table, so it was a nice surprise. Mild, even.
Then Katie and Chris came walking up, having taken a separate car, so it was like two surprises.
Then another friend of Julie's walked up.
When you've been married 22 years, you can read minds, so I knew what she was thinking. She didn't know what I was thinking, which was how I could explain that I had nothing to do with this chance encounter and at the same time wondering if maybe I did and I just forgot. It was a little bizarre.
It turned out fine, though. The other lady chatted for a minute and then went about her business, and we headed inside. There was a moment, though, sort of surreal and sort of like some strange reality show. I was looking around for the cameras.
And we had the closest thing to a family meal we've had in a while, all six of us, almost three hours, laughing and talking and watching Christopher eat like he was a teenage boy or something. It was amazing. I used to be able to eat like that.
John and I got her an assortment of gifts, which she got later in the day, just fun stuff: A couple of big crossword puzzle books, another political-type book with a title that made her laugh, a box of dark chocolate from Godiva, and the entire first season of "Kids In The Hall" on DVD.
The other present I slipped in my pocket before we left the house, so I could pull it out over lunch and be all theatrical. It was a little box with "Zales" on the cover, and I read her mind again for a moment. She had this horrified look on her face that said both "How much did you spend?" and "But you have absoutely no taste!" It was funny.
And she liked it, too, I think.
Oh. One more thing. I wasn't all that hungry, so I ordered a club sandwich. Something light. So they bring me this thing and I swear it looks like some kind of fraternity prank or something they make you eat at a bachelor party just before the stripper gets there. This sandwich could have had its own table, or weather system. Christopher paled just looking at it. I ate approximately 1/16th of it and asked for a box, which I think they probably had to build in the back from old furniture. It was a big sandwich.
Anyway, it was a good day. I midjudged when the Oscars came on so I missed the first hour, but I'm not sure that's any sort of a big deal. I was a little disappointed ""The Aviator" didn't win, but really, there were more important things to be concerned about. My girl had her day, and I didn't screw it up, so I think we all were just sort of relieved.
It was Gratitude Day at church, and the guest pastor mentioned Emily, the character in "Our Town," who dies but is given a chance to live one day of her life again and ends up mightily disappointed at how fast and superficial our lives can be.
"We don't even have time to look at one another!" she complains.
So we took some time yesterday, and we broke bread, held hands at the table and prayed together (yes, right in the middle of a restaurant, you're allowed to), talked and looked at each other, seizing the day and the moment, enjoying the sun and the company, and Oscars were the last thing on our minds.
12:10:41 PM 
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