I couldn’t believe the sight of that awful sign: Seymour’s was closed. This local luncheonette may have been a little dilapidated, but the food was good and the employees were friendly, so it was always crowded. I hadn’t eaten there in months, but I was devastated. I would never have the chance to relive my favorite Sunday memories.
My father and I ate lunch there every Sunday for as long as I can remember. It was our special time, and it made these trips the highlight of my week. We would sit at the counter and swivel our heads to watch the cooks flip the pancakes in front of us and the Yankees game on the television behind us simultaneously. Every time when we were leaving, my dad would buy me packet of Starbursts by the checkout counter, just because he knew that they were my favorites.
Many things may change in a young girl’s life, but these were always a constant… until they weren’t.
When I was ten years old, my father passed away of a heart attack. There were no more weekly lunches at Seymour’s, no more Yankee games, and no more Starbursts. I couldn’t even bring myself to enter the restaurant, which was a favorite of mine for my entire life. It was just too painful.
As time went on, the memories became less painful, and I knew that I was finally recovering from my loss. Around that same time, I noticed a construction crew working near Seymour’s. I was so worried that they would tear that building down, the building that held all of my childhood memories. Months later, I saw a new sign that lifted my spirits and gave me hope. The letters of Seymour’s sat atop the sign smiling at me, and I couldn’t help but walk inside.
It looked different. The chairs were nicer, there was a panel of wood separating the seating area from the grill behind the counter, the candy rack had been replaced with upscale magazines, and the previously popular greasy dishes had been replaced with Acai bowls and health smoothies, but the important things were still there. The staff was still friendly, the food was still good, the restaurant was still crowded, and most importantly, the Yankees were still playing on the television, almost as if they had left a little touch of my dad there.