Yesterday was quite eventful-Easter brunch at my sisters and brother-in-law’s house in Burke. A small gathering of their friends and family, including myself and mom. They were all people who I was vaguely familiar with from sister’s wedding last May. It was nice to spend a little more time getting to know them, although I was of course fifth-wheeling it.
There was a lot of food and drink. My brother-in-law, has a taste for finer spirits and that lot-Far more refined and traveled than myself with my basics of whiskey and rum. He unveiled a scotch of some older vintage. I had never had scotch before. That was some highly potent stuff. Just sniffing it was a challenge. A small taste completely shocked me. I now understand why it is usually served on the rocks- Needs much dilution.
The party soon came to an end as people slowly departed. I took mother back to our basement apartment in Fairfax. After while, served her dinner, and went out again with the ultimate goal of driving back the short distance to my sisters place to watch the latest episode of Game of Thrones with them.
Mother motioned heavily for me to stay or at least leave a little later, but I had my reason to leave early.
Yes, it was Easter Sunday, which always falls on the third Sunday of the April-A very Christian religious holiday that I definitely don’t need brush upon-However, the date was 4.20. No-I don’t mean to speak of marijuana celebration either.
4.20.2012 is the date that my grandfather had died.
I didn’t tell anyone at the party, nor call anyone, or leave note on my social media. The day was pleasant enough-Did not want to ruin it. For the few moments alone that I had, I did my own personal acknowledgement of grandpa’s passing-What has become my own personal tradition:
I got a hot dog.
More precisely, I got hot dog from 7-Eleven, a quarter-pound Big Bite with mayo, relish, and mustard.
Grandpa liked his hot dogs, and those were his usual toppings. Back in Paradise we had a place where he’d normally get his good hot dog two or three times a month, and 7-Eleven was always the go-to in case that place (which was also an ice cream and candy shop) was closed-And until I can locate a proper hot dog stand or restaurant here in VA, it shall remain. No complaints.
So that has become my tradition, my personal honoring of Grandpa-A small meal that he loved, that always put a smile on his face. And for that moment, I can reflect on better times.
The first two weeks here in Virginia have been a blur. I finally have a sort of working schedule on when I can write these blogs-Among other things. Of course it all revolves around care for my mother.
There is much to tell.