I wrote this post this morning, but didn’t post it because I felt that it was not complete. This evening I watched a movie – The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, and there is a line that is repeated through out the movie : “everything is going to be alright, and if everything is not alright, then trust me it is not yet the end”, I believe this quote finishes this thought that I had.
My family, or more specifically my father, used to own a restaurant. When I was young I had no idea how popular it was and what kind of fixture it was to our city, but as I grew older and began working there, I saw the love and sweat my dad put into it, and how that paid off for our family, and for the name our restaurant represented.
My father passed away when I was in my early twenties, I am the oldest of three children, and so none of us were qualified to take on the responsibility of the family business. Not only that, my father vowed that his children wouldn’t have to work at such a difficult job. Furthermore, we did not own the building, so holding onto the name was not in our life plans. Other family members took on the business, and while they did the best they could, the spark, the name, left when my father left this world.
Last year, we decided as a family to close it down. While I was not there to witness it’s last day, my heart wept for weeks and months after. My father’s dream, his work, his identity, had been swept away by neglect by those who took his place. I must admit anger filled my heart for a long time after it closed. I couldn’t bring myself to talk about it, and I still can’t go back to my hometown knowing that my second home is gone.
I used to go there after school and know that I was always welcome. After going clubbing with my friends I would invite them to our restaurant for some pizza, the place would be filled with people we had seen dancing at various Winnipeg bars, everyone joyous and happy, and I felt like I had a part in making our restaurant the place to be by association, and by the fact I worked there.
My sister just posted something on Facebook about what is going to replace the momentous building at the heart of the city. She wrote with such happiness, that it was going to a reputable restaurant. I envy her. I am filled with sadness, and while I am trying to see the good in this, that life and business will go on, that this location will maybe feed, clothe and put someone else’s children through university, I can’t help also being sad.
Second lesson this week, I need to find it in my heart to forgive those that have let me and my family down, and to be happy that the name that everyone uttered after a night clubbing as the place to grab a bite to eat was a part of me, my second home, my father.
Everything must come to an end, it’s hard to swallow for most of us. I know I have a very hard time letting things go. But by doing so we cause pain, we live in the past and so are no longer witnessing the present. My father’s goals were to work hard in order for us to have a better life. Did he succeed in this? Definitely, yes, and so my sister is right to be happy:
“Everything will be alright, and if everything is not alright, then trust me, it is not yet the end”. The restaurant did what my father intended it to do. It allowed him to provide for his family, and attain the goals he had intended, a better chance for us, than he had. I may identify the building and the name, with him, and that’s ok, but I also need to see, that it’s the end of that chapter, and the beginning of a new chapter where we, his children, go out into the world and find our own place.
The fact of the matter is, we, his children, are alright, it is in fact the end of that chapter. Our time may be done, but the experiences we had, the lessons we learned, the love we felt in that time all remain, and for that i am grateful. Carrying this pain around only hurts me, and so I let it go, and hope whoever takes over finds all the love, joy, and happiness that we found there as well.
Living yoga in a military wife's life 