and a before-dinner toddy because the highballs
"isn't george wonderful, dani..." she said as she gazed out the window.
"can you believe he had my tree dug up in henderson and had it transported all the way down here and planted?"
she continued on in her gravelly, sophisticated voice, "i don't really like being in florida for the holidays, but george said it isn't time to go home just yet. i am just so happy you, john and the sugarplum are here... i cannot get over that tree," she faded into thought. ~@~
we took the drinks and dodads into our guys and "sugarplum" katherine. these were precursors to every meal for the mosses. they WERE the meal for katherine!!! (as written previously, katherine was sure that mrs. moss was the best cook on the face of the earth, mmmm... popcorn and bugles;) ~@~
we had made reservations at hunan's, our local chinese bistro. hence, when we arrived they had our table waiting. mr. moss took mrs. moss' coat, and john took katherine's and mine. we three girls seated ourselves. after hanging our coats, mr. moss and john joined us.
the restaurant was rather crowded with mostly familiar faces. mrs. moss didn't seem to notice. anna, the owner of the restaurant, showed us to our table and took our drink orders.
as she brought mr. moss' black coffee with a straw to the table, she asked if we would be having "the regular". we all smiled and nodded, yes. anna, returned with the rest of our drinks and let us know our soup was on its way.
a group of people several tables over from ours was preparing to leave. they donned their coats and headed towards our table. they happened to be a few of our fellow church parishioners. after mr. moss greeted them with a warm, southern, gentleman's, "how do you do?", we all arose and exchanged hugs, hand-shakes, and merry Christmas wishes.
as the group walked away from our table, mrs. moss, crinkling her beautiful little nose, smiled at mr. moss and said, "george, i can't believe how many people are down here...
"mommie," mr. moss was having a terrible time understanding and accepting mrs. moss' alzheimer's, "where do you think you are?"
i reached under the table and took mrs. moss' soft, warm hand in mine as she replied,
(to be continued...)
love and God's blessings,
ps you will find earlier entries in ascending order on my side bar entitled, "our love story":)