When I researched the closest “wine tasting” to where we lived, I didn’t take “wine bars” into consideration. That oversight meant that we’d whisked Mom nearly an hour’s ride away through beautiful country scenery to a place that allowed us to have a glass of wine along with sweet and savory prepackaged food for purchase.
I knew that we’d want real food prior to sipping wine, so I asked the wine bar employee for a restaurant recommendation. Several places opened at 5 PM, but a popular destination served both lunch and dinner.
Only challenge was that they didn’t take reservations for fewer than five people. I was encouraged to call when we were 30 minutes away. I called when we were about 20 minutes away. The guy who answered the phone informed me that they were too busy to honor telephone reservation requests.
I fumed.
While my sister parked the car and Mom waited in outdoor seating, I went inside to place our name on the waitlist. When the guy asked me if I was on the list already, I recognized his voice from the call. Chalk it up to maturity that I didn’t cuss him out right then. With a tense look on my face, but a tone as neutral as I could muster, I informed him that I’d called 20 minutes ago, but wasn’t allowed to be placed on the list.
A nervous look swept across his face. Recovering, he told me that the wait time had shortened. We were sat just after we’d had a pleasant conversation with a librarian and her daughter. Not only that, but we received a table in the bar area, where Mom didn’t have to walk too far or use stairs.
My sister and I made quick work of choosing what we wanted from the specials menu. We told Mom we’d all share: blueberry salad, shrimp with ravioli, crab dip with fried pita pieces, truffle fries and crab rolls. Since my sister is always on a mission to find the best key lime pie, we shared a slice afterwards.
Even with the three of us sharing everything, we only finished the salad and dessert. The rest of those delicious leftovers became my Sunday dinner and a few lunches during the following week.
We strolled for two minutes to our next destination. Mom traveled from one venue to the next without any problems. She’s funny about walking. If shopping, Mom can cover nearly a mile. Any other activity, she prefers to ride in the car. So, both the proximity, weather and terrain aligned perfectly for Mom’s stroll.
As soon as we walked in, I announced that I would like to try their malbec and that Mom and my sister would sample the sweetest Kool-Aid-tasting wine they had. When it comes to alcoholic drink flavors, my sister loves peach; so, her sample hit the spot. She and Mom both got a glass of the peachy sweet wine, while I passed on the Malbec and got I red, which the woman described as “jammy.”
Since I’d picked up lunch, my sister bought the three glasses of wine, two bags of chocolates and a bottle of spicy honey, which we didn’t try until later that evening after we were home.
Mom took three sips of wine, including the sample glass, declared herself done and wanted my sister and me to finish the rest. If we’d known that was all she was going to do, we could’ve shared our glasses of wine with her although I knew upfront that she wouldn’t have liked my wine choice.
Both the time of day and those few sips of wine helped Mom nap on our way to our local mall, sparing my sister from Mom’s shotgun-driving. Fortunately, we only visited one store since Dad had sat at the dining room table with the caregiver, not eating his dinner, which consisted of soup and a sandwich.
Mom was usually with him at dinnertime and the caregiver didn’t realize that Dad only ate sandwiches if they were quartered. Moreover, he’d missed Mom since we’d left around 11 AM and returned around 4:30 PM. As much as Mom had enjoyed her special Mother’s Day outing, once again, it was at the expense of Dad not joining us.
We’d left Dad at home last year as well. If Dad accompanies us anywhere, Mom, being the primary caregiver, has the extra task of attending to him even though the rest of us help as much as possible.
But for one day a year, two of the best gifts for Mom are rest and self-care. Even if only for a few hours.
