‘Nothing’s the same anymore’
Mom’s friend texted me happy thanksgiving yesterday.
I was doing a “Once Around” at the funeral home where I’d taken Momma at the time.
They probably still talk about me there. How I insisted on knowing where Mom was. Where all the real end-of-life stuff happens.
I stopped at that back corner where I wasn’t allowed to be. And cried the whole way out.
Mom’s friend got the “Once Around” reference. I told her to enjoy her meal and try not to be sad today.
She said of course I’m sad. “Nothing’s the same anymore.”
Girl, don’t I know it.
I had wanted to try out the Thanksgiving buffet at the Aloft for the past couple years.
But it’s indoor, so Mom would have never agreed.
Also, she used a walker, not really out of necessity but more for balance if needed. Also it made for a fine cage if rowdy Proud Boys or bastard children were underfoot.
Which they surprisingly are, which you’d think they’d give someone with an aid some berth.
But she didn’t want to be seen with said walker, not outside of Holla Dolla Tree or Ross.
Come to think of it, she quit going to those after a while, too.
Anyway. I checked out the buffet and it was SO GOOD.
Most Alofts are cheap because they don’t serve food. That’s why I stay at them. But this one has two ghost kitchens. And the only way to order from them is via Uber Eats.
Anyway I stopped at the W XYZ bar for a cocktail.
Got my fill of green bean casserole and all the other side dishes.
There is literally a toothful of turkey on there. That’s all I needed.
Then I took my happy ass next door to the iPic for “Wicked for Good.”
Where I cried of course.
For our democracy mostly.
I have read the book, saw the first movie and even saw the play …
Twice at the Kravis.
AND once on Broadway.
The cocktails have typically been … typical high-priced-venue bad.
But iPic … rather, my server Alexandria? Made a kickass cocktail.
She was great company too.
Also she gave me extra everything for my final drink of the night.
Including lots and lots of glitter.
We talked all about Taylor Swift and that stupid cat plushie that no one who’s a true fan can procure.
Good times. Truly.
I wandered around Delray afterward, as I did last year when I picked DaDa for my Thanksgiving dinner.
It was much busier than last year. I was bored out of my tree last year, but there was a lot more open this year.
I did not photograph my ice cream from Kilwin’s. But if three strong cocktails AND ice cream doesn’t give me diabeetus, hopefully nothing will.
Nothing’s the same, indeed.
I loved my Thanksgiving.
But I’d have traded it all for just one of Mom’s stuffing balls.
Because that would mean she was here to fry it up in butter and serve it to me.