Since mom passed we have been cleaning out my parents house. I was given all of my teenage angst journals. I have been looking through them, wanting to hug my 16 year old self.
I didn't date many entries but I dated one. It was a simple entry.
Was supposed to go out with D. He stood me up. Dad took me to Milleridge. It was sweet.
D=my high school crush. I kept waiting for him to realize I adored him, dump his girlfriend and go out with me. He is now married to the girlfriend and we are all still close friends.
On this day he was supposed to take me out--just as friends. I was dressed in the height of 80's fashion and had spend I don't know how long on my hair. His car broke down far away and long before cell phones. I remember waiting and waiting and waiting. He was supposed to be there at 6:00. At 8:00 his mom called to let me know about his car. I thanked her and prepared to go to my room to sulk. My father stopped me as I walked up the stairs.
"Get your coat. We're going out for dinner."
"What about Mom?" I asked.
I whined. I rolled my eyes. I said thanks but no thanks.
If you were a teenager--ever--you know that tone. The one that says that the parent is not kidding around and you better do what they say if you want to live. Dad repeated, "Get your coat, we're going to dinner." I got my coat. Stormed to the car. Slammed the door in a real teenage snit.
I figured we were going to Burger King or McDonalds. We passed them. I was stunned when we pulled into the parking lot of Milleridge Inn. This was a birthday place. This was not a "just go to dinner" place.
I don't remember much about the dinner. I remember Dad holding my chair. I remember us eating all the popovers we could hold. I remember going to bed smiling after a really lousy day.
According to my journal, this took place nearly 30 years ago today. So much has happened in between, but the sterling example of my father--that's still there.