We arrived early on Thursday morning for his golf tournament . . . long before we could check into our hotel. Instead of working on my current manuscript from our car, I asked if he could drop me off in the hotel lobby after breakfast. Music played softly, with
a beautiful fireplace providing a warm atmosphere, surrounded by comfy leather chairs beckoning me to just think. Fresh coffee in hand,
I found a quiet corner table and enthusiastically wrote until lunch.
With a room still unavailable, I checked out the adjoining restaurant. Friendly staff greeted me before finding a cozy booth to make-my-home for the afternoon. “Real food, natural, cooked fresh in our kitchen; never flown in or premade elsewhere,” read the menu marketing. Then she walked up, a delightful young server eager to make my extended stay enjoyable. We chatted about basics to begin. Emily came back from time to time, taking my order, refilling water, making me feel special and comfortable, bringing the delicious entre she’d suggested—which tasted better than she described—and just to chat about life in between. She had questions about my stuff spread over the table. I sked questions about her life. There we connected; a writer trying to make good use of some extra time, intending to make headway in her latest novel and a server, busy doing her job to the best of her ability, in a humble position serving others.
Over those potentially boring hours, I discovered an honest, down-to-earth soul longing to fulfill her destiny on earth and perhaps make an impact—intertwining lives with a maturing grandma overwhelmed with inspiring the world through her writing. I didn’t want to leave that table; didn’t want to end what turned into a very special conversation; didn’t want to say goodbye, possibly forever, to a new friend who had captured a place in my heart.
Settling into our room, I added hundreds of interesting words until ordering room service for dinner. My brain wouldn’t allow the extrovert in me to eat alone. I wished she could be back chatting with me once more. This authentic home-grown female deeply impacted my day.
“It’s for you and others like you, I continue to blog about things that have already happened in my life. Maybe it’s boring; maybe it will encourage; maybe it will inspire, or perhaps teach something I learned the hard way—so you don’t have to. Most of all, I want to stay in touch. This one’s for you, Emily. I miss you."