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Monday, 11 August 2008

Menu Please!

By Nancy Leitz

My brother Jack's wife, Peggy, had planned the funeral of her dear mother down to the last detail. She had everything as she thought her mother would like it and she was pleased with all the arrangements she had made.

After the Mass and the flowers and the limos were ordered, she began to plan a luncheon for the friends and family who would come from far and near to bid Mrs. Larmour a fond good- bye. She chose a lovely restaurant called Chandler's and made all the luncheon arrangements with them.

Mom Mom by this time was 83 years old and loved to talk to everyone. We wanted to make sure that Jack and Peggy were free to greet and thank their friends for coming to the funeral and the luncheon, so we told them that we would be in charge of Mom Mom and see that she didn't tie up all their friends with her chit chat.

Normally we let her talk to her heart's content because she enjoyed it so, but this wasn't her day and we assured Peggy that we would see to it that Mom Mom was well taken care of and got to the restaurant and was seated and served her favorite gin and tonic.

So, when the funeral was over and the friends and family went to Chandler's, we made sure that Mom Mom was seated at the far end of the long table so that she was free to talk to all of us and have her drink and enjoy the day out. Even if it was a sad day out, she loved being around everyone.

Now it was time to order your meal. Peggy had arranged with Chandler's to serve two entrees. You could choose either chicken or ham. We were at a table with about 15 people on each side. Mom Mom was the last person in the row. I was next to her and heard the ordering going on as the waitress moved down the long table toward us. It went something like this:

"I'll have chicken, ham, chicken, chicken, ham, ham, chicken, chicken, ham, chicken, etc. on down the long table. When the waitress came to us, Mom Mom said, "fried oysters".

The waitress and I exchanged glances and she gave me a look that said she would try to get the oysters. She went away for a minute and came back and gave me a "thumbs up" on Mom Mom's oysters. The chef had agreed to make them.

Fast forward a few months and Jack, Peggy, Roy and I are in Mom Mom's apartment talking about restaurants. Someone mentioned Chandler's and Mom Mom immediately said, "Oh, it's a nice place all right. I loved the mauve tablecovers and napkins and the flowers on the table. It was such a lovely atmosphere and the waitresses were very nice.”

Then, leaning forward so she could whisper and in very hushed tones, she said, "Yes, it was nice, all right, but don't ever order the fried oysters, they are terrible."

We all tried very hard to keep a straight face for Mom Mom's sake. We didn't all succeed. I thought my brother would choke on his drink...

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