Memories of Peter’s Birthday
It is Peter’s birthday today. I was feeling sad. I tried to remember something funny and quaint that Peter and I had done over the years.
We used to go to Los Angeles several times a year when my parents were alive. I recall this beautiful sunny day; Peter and I were returning from somewhere and happened to pass a restaurant that we liked to frequent when we went there. It is situated right on the water and had outdoor seating. It was a very pleasant and relaxing way to dine. You would lean back and watch the ocean and the seagulls flying over it as they attempted to catch their meal out of the ocean. They sang their little seagull songs as they flew across the sunny skies. The palm trees swayed lazily in the breeze. The waves gently lapped the shore.
It was mid-morning as we passed it and the middle of the week. Peter being Peter stopped the car. We entered the restaurant and asked to sit at the deck outside. We were led there and offered seats. We sat back and smiled a smile of contentment. We asked the waiter for some coffee and desserts. There was only another couple there, because it was midweek and much too early for lunch. We sipped our coffee and nibbled at our desserts as we enjoyed the beautiful view. When we were done, the waiter came by with the check. The bill came to, at the most, $15.00, if even that. Peter took out a hundred dollar bill and placed it in the folder. The waiter made a slight bow and walked out. We sat back and continued to take in the view. Time passed, first twenty minutes, half an hour, forty minutes. There was no waiter and no change. Finally, Peter beckoned him to the table.
“We are waiting for the change,” Peter said.
The waiter looked at Peter in puzzlement. “I thought that was my tip!” he said.
“Your tip? You expect an $85.00 tip on a $15.00 coffee and dessert! What drugs are you on! Outrageous!” Peter roared.
The waiter very quickly gave him his change. Peter tipped him appropriately and shook his head as we stood up to go. “It must be the waters of Playa de Rey,” he commented.
Today I wept to myself quietly, then tried to think of the happy times we always had together. I smiled to myself.
That’s better, Stella! Peter was a joy! Remember him with joy. Stop feeling sorry for yourself! You had the very best of husbands, and that is the greatest of blessings. Happy birthday, my Peter! I love you so. Till we meet again.