12:12 a.m. | 2003-05-22 My Mysterious Dinner Date. I�ll just say, up front, I had dinner with my StepMom. So, it wasn�t a DATE date. It was only mysterious because she started sending me rather �cryptic� emails. See for yourself and tell me if I�m wrong. Hi Cruel-Irony, I'll be in YourTown Wednesday evening. Can you get away for dinner? I won't have a car as I'm taking the limo from MyTown to the airport and will take the hotel shuttle to MyHotel. Let me know. StepMom. What airport? A limo? These were the things on my mind. But, I was primarily focused on the �having dinner� part. The only connection I have with StepMom is MyDAD, who�s now deceased. Of course, I want to have dinner. Then another message. Actually Cruel-Irony, as I look back on the limo time schedule, I'll get to the airport at 5:15, and need to get the shuttle to MyHotel and check in. How long will that take? Closer to 6 will mean less waiting around for you. Looking forward to seeing you. StepMom. Again what airport and what limo? Now I really started to wonder. I mean, StepMom doesn�t normally travel in a limo, I don�t think HerTown has an airport and I�m, well, frankly confused. However, I just focused on dinner. I know I want to do that, and she rarely comes to MyTown, so� whatever. Then a final message, which was sent to all the �kids�. This is just a message to let you know that I am on my way, to ThisState and ThatState. Will be back in June. Until then, love to all, StepMom. Eventually, I got the low down on all that. There�s a limo service that runs from HerTown to MyTown and she used it to get to the airport in MyTown. Then she shuttled to her hotel so she can catch an early morning flight tomorrow. And, just to let you know, that limo service is a cool thing. It was actually cheaper for her to catch that to MyTown than for her to drive and leave her car in long-term parking at the airport. So, StepMom and I had dinner together. It was nice. The restaurant was cool, the food was great and the waiter was fantastic. Why was he fantastic? In addition to being friendly, attentive and experienced, he knew when to �step out� and leave us be. His perceptive qualities were especially appreciated when, uh, I, um� well, when I started crying. At the dinner table. In public. Surrounded by patrons and employees. And, you know what? For the first time in my life, I really didn�t give a shit about the fact that I was tearing up in public. I didn�t start sobbing, of course. Crying in public is a fine art that has to be mastered. I only did the tearing up, spilling over slightly kinda crying. The kind where you can still smile at your waiter and he gets it. Of course, we were talking about MyDad at the time. I rarely see my StepMom and we�re never alone together. It was a moment and I seized it. Heh. Carpe Diem and all that shit. We�re still mourning. It�s been almost 6 months since his death. He was in my life, so to speak, for 38 years, and in StepMom�s life for 20 years. You can delay grief but you can�t escape it. But, you know, no one seemed put out over my brief �moment of tears�. I just kept moving along, as did everyone else. StepMom did say that she really enjoyed our one-on-one conversation. She remarked that she couldn�t ever remember us spending time together alone before and queried me about that. I reminded her of the few hours of time we spent alone together in West Berlin (1989) when we wandered down to the marketplace sans MyDad (who was laid up with a cold). She instantly remembered that and started chuckling. This is that. (SM:) Oh yeah. I forgot about that time. Remember how we had a banana for Christmas Dinner? (CI:) Yes, I do. I�ll never forget that. (SM:) When I think of that, it reminds me to be grateful for what I have. (CI:) Me too. And, who would be that ignorant but us Americans? What? There�s no 7-Eleven open on Christmas? (SM:) Yeah. And, what? Our hotel doesn�t serve Christmas Dinner? Yes, we were that arrogant and ignorant at that time. Oh, and so �American� it was pathetic. Needless to say, it was good to spend some one-on-one time with StepMom. your thoughts? seed flower