Eating at the Life Cafe

Truth Thursday

The truth is I still haven't quite recovered my equilibrium from my daughter's bat mitzvah two weeks ago, and therefore haven't really had time to think about a Truth Thursday topic for this week.

But the other truth is that it's almost the first unofficial day of summer - the Friday of Memorial Day weekend, and I have a tradition for that day that harkens back to my life pre-family, pre-marriage, pre-me as I am today. It involves the now sadly defunct Life Cafe in New York City and two of my oldest and dearest friends in the world.

So here is a reprint of a post about this tradition from two years ago. May we all experiece a Life Cafe moment in the coming days of summer fun.

 

 

I've just gotten off the phone with Mona – my dear friend from high school, who still makes me laugh every time we speak. Many years ago, when Mona was first engaged to her now-husband, Patrick, he and I worked together in fundraising and marketing for a well-known dance company in New York. 

One Friday afternoon, the day before Memorial Day, our office closed early and we spent a glorious afternoon sitting at an outdoor table at the Life Café in New York’s Alphabet City. At that time, Avenue B was still ridden with crack vials and wasn't even on the verge of becoming a hipster paradise. The Life Café was ahead of its time. 

We were both 25. I was walking around with a giant question mark floating over my head – what did I want to do? Who did I want to be with? Where did I want to live? Patrick was antsy about his professional life and eager to blaze new trails. 

 I was excited because I had a date that evening that I was hoping would turn out to be the beginning of something big. Patrick and Mona also had great plans for the weekend. The sky was blue, anticipation was in the air, the food was delicious, and we felt sun struck by the idleness and sheer luxury of the afternoon. 

Every year since that day, wherever we are, one of us calls the other on the Friday before Memorial Day and asks if the other is having a Life Café day. More times than not, there are blue skies on that Friday, the opening door to summer around the country, and it always reminds me of that expansive feeling of expectation. A smell in the air, a hint of sunscreen to come. The turpitude that is sure to follow. But on a Life Café day, the air is still crisp and the possibilities are endless. 

My date tanked, but Patrick and Mona are still happily married, raising two boys out in the Midwest near his childhood home. About a year after our Life Café Day, I made a brave move to Washington, DC, to start a new job and a new life. And that giant, hovering question mark? While initially it followed me down to DC on Amtrak, ultimately it faded into oblivion.  My questions all got answered (at least the ones from my youth. Today, I have different questions, still waiting for an answer, but I've learned that all will come to pass in time.)  I, too, am happily married and am raising my brood of three. I love my work, I love my family, and aside from life's typical irritations, I count my blessings regularly. 

I think back to that Life Café day and ponder the space in between then and now. So much has filled up the distance. There is so much more to come (knock on wood.) I think about how young and callow I was, sitting at the Life Café, praying that a gorgeous young guy was going to think I was pretty enough to kiss, and really, that's all that mattered that golden afternoon. 

There are times today when I wish I still had the ability to be so one-track minded, when I was could focus only on the moment, the way my children do. Nothing mattered on that long ago Friday except the possibility of love. Today, on the rare occasion when my husband and sneak out for dinner together, we talk about schedules, vacation plans, jobs, our parents, the kids.  Rarely do we get around to dreams and expectations.

Except that we need to dream every now and then. Those dreams and hopes and expectations are what keep us going. They feed us. It's what we first bonded over, what will be with us into the future. 

We all need a Life Café Day now and then. Here's to hoping.

Photo by RichardO via Flickr.

Comments

[Katherine]

What a wonderful tradition to connect with your friends on the anniversary of that afternoon. I well remember those long afternoons (or Saturday mornings) of sitting around and chatting and wondering ... what will the future bring? Nowadays if I get 15 minutes to sit still and wonder, I end up with a to-do list a mile long!! Still, I hope to carve out those endless stretches of time for my children so they can dream about their futures and let their thoughts meander, and not march from one scheduled event to another. Maybe that is my new dream!

[Patrick D.]

Karen, this story sounds familiar. That 25 year old guy is still very much alive. Mona, the boys and I spent a part of our Life Cafe Day driving up to our new cabin on a lake in Northern Wisconsin. It's a dream I've had since way before I ever heard of Alphabet City. And while you might have been focused on a boy on the first Life Cafe Day, look at how your dream of writing a column has come true for you, a dream I would guess has been alive in you as far back as when the New York Times had only male columnists. I love to go fishing and now I get to with my two boys. You love to write and do so about your children. I think those two 25 year olds have done pretty well chasing their dreams. I can't wait to see what happens next at the Life Cafe.