The evening started with what we could call a custom of ours whenever we gather up: fighting! I realised that it’s been occuring each time there is something special going on, like getting ready for an important evening, traveling, or driving to a new place where the location remains unsure, despite the maps that have been studied beforehand. Not mentioning about the different topics being dicussed and that undoubtedly provoke lively debates (and that’s an understatement). As we are a family of stubborns, either you get used to it or…you get used to it.
Tonight, the fight was about arriving on time at the restaurant. As Lebanese-Italian, French ponctuality has never been our strength, such that being only 5 minutes late is a challenge for us. And that’s why we ended-up battling: not to let those unwilling to let go a bad habit, ruin the efforts of the others desperately trying to succeed in the mission.
I confess being the one provoking the tussle tonight: getting out of work late this evening too, resulted in a cascade of lags. Hoping to save the situation, I call up my sister and ask her to take her shower first so that when I’d be arriving 20 minutes later, the bathroom would be available…and eventually I would gain 5 minutes to sit and relax before having to rush again. “You are so selfish! It’s always about what is convenient to you!” she yelled to finally hung up the phone on me. On my way home, I decided to let go and not bring up the delicate subject of “who goes first?” (you wouldn’t believe, but as ridiculous as it sounds, that has been a point of argument between us ever since).
By the time I got home, it was 7:00 pm. Everyone was very calm -it seemed though. My sister was having her shower (finally) and I gained 10 minutes of power nap. When my turn came, I had 3 pairs of eyes telling me: “you have 30 minutes to get ready. Not one more. Otherwise we will lose the table”. I did my best but was late by 5 minutes. When I entered the car, everyone was very quiet. Only my sister grumbled, chafted at me: “If we lose the table, it’ll be your fault”. For the rest of the 20 minutes drive, the four of us remained silent: my father driving, my mum looking by the window, my sister head down on and absorbed by her Ninento DS game, and I, with my Ipod plugged into my ears. Thrilled? Oh yes, we were…!
We actually arrived on time at the restaurant. A place I fancy very much and where you’re always sure to savour nice dishes: “La Maison de Marie” (www.lamaisondemarie.com). It’s always lovely crowded and the atmosphere is a “cosy-warm-studied-elegant” mix. And while we were escorted to our table, my sister came by my side and uttered: “I fought this noon to have a table, especially that one, because the restaurant was actually fully booked. That’s why I got mad at you running late”. Could I reply anything?
As we sat and got comfortable, the mood switched to a
merrier one. I got particularly moved when, as we lifted up our glasses of champagne, my sister commenced the dinner with a first toast (which held a special meaning as it came from her) : “To your enterprise”. She offered me a priceless gift: believing in me. The joy it filled me with was one of the kind you may not feel often enough. Blessfully, it didn’t leave me for the rest of the night. It actually strengthened when I read the card my parents had handed out to me. Another demonstration of their untiring affection: acknowledging my urgency and compulsion to reach out for a crazy dream – writing – while planning for a new professional life.
At that very moment, I felt free. What a bliss.
Two dear persons were missing that night…and I wished I could have shared that moment with them too, as they have been part of my change. But I keep carrying them with me, very close to my heart…
Thank you, my dearest ones, for such an uplifting evening. And I hope that one day I’ll be able to repay you all that goodness you keep pouring on me.
