In a small town your dining choices are limited. In Crossfield there are about 4 restaurants, and a few kilometres away there’s a Humpty’s and Tim Hortons. That’s it.
I eat out a lot. Every day. At almost every place I sit down the server will often put their arm on my shoulder and ask, “Do you want your regular?” No menu needed.
What was my favourite place, is now closed. It was called “Michelle’s Place”
I was going through a separation about 7 years ago, I was a lost soul, broken hearted in many ways. Im not sure I’ve ever recovered to be honest, you never break up a family without some deep scars.
A very bright spot in this time was a server at Michelle’s place. Her name was Michelle. For the longest time I thought she was the owner. She was so caring. She treated customers like they were guests in her home. She cared about everything, your food, your refill, your tab. But more than that, she cared about you as a person. That’s exactly why I kept going back. We became friends in our own way. Eventually I met the owner, also name Michelle, who also became a friend of mine.
As everyone knows, I lost my Mother to cancer. I remember the day Michelle told me she had cancer. She was way too young. I remember telling her she would beat it. I didn’t really believe it myself, but she did. We lost touch. After she left the restaurant we had no cause to stay connected, but I missed her friendship. I missed our chats.
We grew apart and we never really spoke. I’d see her from time to time, and it always made me happy to see her.
Last week I was told she was very ill, and was taken suddenly. Gone.
“Fuck, the Cancer came back.” I thought to myself. That’s what had happened to my Mum. I was wrong. Influenza.
She left a huge mark. Not just on me, but on my entire community. She has young children, a husband, and friends that are closer than most families.
The good die young.
I was very lucky to have been a guest at “Michelle’s Place”.
If you read this far, thank you. Tris.
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