Grief and old hang-outs

This afternoon I walked up to a restaurant/bar/grill a few blocks from my house to buy a couple of gift cards. Up until a couple of years ago, it was my main escape at 3 p.m. to do some work over a couple of beers.  They have a great list of beers on tap. Four bucks at cr/happy hour. I loved that place.

I walked in and was struck by the ambience. They remodeled. Green and blue moody colors now and way better lighting (which coming from me means less glare and more brooding). As I waited for the guy to go get my gift cards, waves of grief came over me. We’d need video footage to know for sure, but I believe my eyes were tearing up. God I miss those afternoons. Grief made worse today by my favorite drinking weather — again, the moodiness. The rain storm is about to start.

I miss them, I miss them, I miss them. There were these people there still having their beers and peaceful (ahem) afternoons, god damn it. The grief is still insistent. And there is nothing to do. I want that and it’s only a few blocks away. Which is quite a problem, because it (and hundreds of other establishments just like it) will always, always be a few blocks away.

This afternoon I didn’t even try to play with my feelings and figure out how to melt them. Reason with myself. Sit, as they say, with the emotions. No. I just left.

I learned this trick a couple of years ago when I found myself uncomfortably close to an alluring guy I met at a weekend workshop, me mid-happylongtermrelationship and facing the crush question really for the first time. Hadn’t repurposed it before, but it’s eminently repurposeable. After a long day of flirting interspersed with the basics of cordwood construction, 5:30 pm arrived, the class was winding down, mortar and sawdust was being put away, and, based on my extensive experience with, well, how things go, dinner was going to arrive, the sun would set, some beers would be consumed, and some of us might not spend the night where some of us had originally planned. I had pitched my tent at the city campground and he was staying at a hotel. Something clicked in my mind and, almost without thinking, I removed myself. Turned and walked to my car. Drove away.

Well, hey, I thought it was brilliant. No inner wrestling. Just the use of legs. I’m sure this was original with me, but you’re free to borrow it.

So it was with this fuckingly seductive now-cozy bar and grill, complete with impending rain storm. I left. I still feel the grief, but who cares.

Strength and peace and creativity to you on your journey…


8 thoughts on “Grief and old hang-outs

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