A Long-Awaited Reunion

It’s been years since she even considered contemplating taking a step back into this place. She used to spend countless hours, savoring each moment and each morsel that she was blessed to enjoy inside these walls. It holds so much meaning to her. The place she studied for hours on end, day after day when she was completing her master’s thesis. The place she went with friends to enjoy a casual meal and catch up. The location she always took her family to when they came into town because it was her favorite, and it quickly became theirs too. Once upon a time, this place was her everything.

Just a simple diner to most. Just a building they’d pass by on their way to work or some other obligatory destination in the rushed tasks that comprise their daily lives. But not for her. For her, this was a safe haven, the destination, the place she went when she needed to get away from it all and when she needed to tune back in to who she is and what her goals are at the end, or, more likely, in the middle of, a particularly tough week. But that was in a different lifetime. That was when she could do things like that without a thought. Back then, she had the choice of coming to this place and ordering whatever she pleased. She had the choice of carelessly enjoying a meal at any establishment in town. She didn’t appreciate it back then. Not nearly as much as she should have. She took for granted how special, how sacred, that relationship to place is. She underestimated how easily it could be taken away. It didn’t even cross her mind that some people don’t have it that easy, that it’s much more of a struggle for them to enjoy this kind of quality time on their own or with others. For some people, this involves much more preparation and planning, itt can’t just happen in the blink of an eye, with blind reliance on others.

Yes, this place was her old stomping grounds before she was diagnosed with a digestive disorder that meant she had to carefully watch what she ate, how much she ate, and when she ate it. Before she had to wonder how she was going to react to each particular food and needed to know exactly what was in each item. Before she didn’t have to worry if her food was contaminated with a potentially harmful ingredient. Back then, she didn’t have to feel uncomfortable and like she was a burden for asking these questions and requesting that items be made to her particular specifications. No matter how often people tell her she shouldn’t feel this way, she always still does a little bit, and besides, she still doesn’t enjoy this new, care-filled approach to eating at a diner. Eating out is supposed to be carefree and free of burdens. This lifestyle she has been forced to adopt has necessitated it turn into the exact opposite of that.

At least that’s how it has been for the past several years. But no longer. She has pushed through the hardest part. She has remained dedicated to her mission of healing herself in an effort to one day return to this hallowed ground and dine the way she used to when she frequented its booths. She has finally made it through those difficult days. She’s been anxiously awaiting this moment. She’s grateful to be lucky enough to have made it here. She’s ready. Her body is ready to take this next step, it has been, but now her mind is too. She takes a deep breath, pushes the door open, and hears that familiar chime of the bells on the door, letting the establishment know that someone new has arrived. Today, she feels that she truly is someone completely different as she enters the diner. She sits down in her booth and orders her usual. When that decadent slice of chocolate cake arrives, she wastes no time. She thanks the waitress for delivering it to her, knowing that she couldn’t possibly know what this singular slice means to her. She probably brings slices of this same cake to customers all over the joint all day. But this one is unique. She takes in the moment with all of her senses: first, admiring the handiwork of the pastry chef who constructed this towering beauty - the evenness of the layers, the craft in piping the buttercream, the visibly moist crumb. Then, she leans in close and takes a deep inhale of the sweet, chocolatey aroma. Finally, she picks up her fork and slices through, feeling how moist and spongy the cake is, and hearing it too, just as she remembers it. She brings it to her mouth with determination and purpose. The moment that bite hits her taste buds, a tear begins to form in each of her eyes. The flavor, the mouthfeel, everything is just as it should be. The experience is everything it ever was, but now more perfect, because it has been imbued with much more meaning. She savors every bite of that moist slice of chocolate cake perfection and every drop of that glass of cold, fresh milk. Together, they strike such a balance as to create the perfect harmony that elevates the experience to one that could rightly be referred to as heavenly. She stretches out this moment, this slice, this enjoyment, as long as she can. She lets the feeling wash over her and when she is done, when she has taken her last bite, she smiles, because she knows that it is the first of many, that this is only just the beginning.