Hole in the Sun

Essays about love, death, politics, religion, and so on.

Follow publication

We got take out tonight

We got take out tonight. Christmas Eve. The four of us. We got take out tonight from a place we go to from time to time. Salvadoran/Mexican. We got take out tonight from the restaurant where my late wife and I ate dinner the week before our first child was born and where we came up with his name. We had a girl’s name picked out but not a boy’s and we were stuck and there we were at the table by the bar where I was standing tonight for the takeout order but it was fifteen and a half years ago when we sat at the table. I think of that night every time I go in the restaurant and walk to the back to the bar where you pick up take out. It’s the table to the left of the bar with the TV behind it playing a soccer game.

Our Takeout

It’s been seven and a half years since she died and when I walk into the restaurant it’s all matter of fact now. Just a memory of that dinner the week before our first child was born and now he is fifteen and a half.

“Remember? This is the restaurant where we ate that night — the week before I went into labor, remember? We had a girl’s name but not a boy’s name and it just came to us. Remember that?”

“Of course! Of course I remember. You mention it every time I come here. I remember you were so big. Is it wrong for me to tell you how beautiful you looked when you were pregnant?”

We’ve never gotten take out on Christmas Eve there and this time, as I was leaving and walking to the car with the order for my two boys and new wife, I started crying. I’m happy with my life and I love my new wife and my boys and it’s Christmas Eve and I have two bags of carry out and tears are filling my eyes and they sting and I can’t quite see where I’m going but I know where I’m going because I’ve walked through that parking lot dozens of times.

I clicked the car key and the car chirped and guided me the rest of the way. I opened the door and put the take out in the passenger seat. I turned on the car and jazzy Christmas music was playing from the jazzy station that is playing Christmas music all the time right now because it is Christmas Eve.

And I drive away from the place where we had dinner that one time a long time ago.

Sign up to discover human stories that deepen your understanding of the world.

Free

Distraction-free reading. No ads.

Organize your knowledge with lists and highlights.

Tell your story. Find your audience.

Membership

Read member-only stories

Support writers you read most

Earn money for your writing

Listen to audio narrations

Read offline with the Medium app

Published in Hole in the Sun

Essays about love, death, politics, religion, and so on.

Written by John Robinette

Father, widower, remarried. Leadership coach and entrepreneur by day, author, essayist by night. ENFP. Input, Connectedness, Ideation, Context, Strategic.

No responses yet

Write a response