Sometimes it is good and not the same

Often, I tell stories about my Aunt Sylvia.  She was a favorite relative that I grew up with and a role model of being a strong Texan woman.  It has been years since she died in a house fire, but I tell a story about her in my keynotes so she is close to my heart.

Recently, I was in Texas and I chose to drive through the state to stop by Hico, Texas, and treat myself to a piece of pie in honor of my Aunt.  The Koffee Kup sits at a weird intersection of small state highways, has limited cell signal, and no wifi.  They have built out a side room and upgraded the bathrooms, but the menu is the same and the salt and pepper shaker collections that line the walls haven’t changed other than an accessional/hopeful dusting. 

I drove by my Aunt’s empty lot before getting pie.  The lot is empty the house cleared away including the foundation, driveway, pond, mailbox, and big trees.  The lot is now lush with blackberries and plant life.  There is no trace of her Craftsman with the wrap around porch, rose covered arch and picket fence.  Time has moved on whether I like it to or not.

I drove down the block to park at the Koffee Kup and hoped my Aunt Sylvia’s neighbor would be the waitress like last time.  I worried I wouldn’t recognize her and hope she would recognize me.  A young woman in high school took my order unaware of the ceremonious moment I was having by myself.  Someone did ask me where I was from when I went to where the bathroom used to be to find a storage closet.  I guess it was evidence that I wasn’t just passing through – at least not for the first time.  I eagerly shared about my Aunt, but he didn’t recognize her or the name. 

My pie came and it was delicious, but not the same.  My expectations were delightful and unrequited.