I found treasure

Aloha Teahouse

Mother’s Day was hard. Alison would have been 43 this week.

That’s all I have to say about that.


Counselor: How was your Mothers Day?
Me: It started off pretty bad but ended really amazing.
Her: Oh, why?
Me: (excitedly) I found treasure! Hold on, lemme show you!

While I saw my mom and sister’s family for Mother’s Day, my head was fulla Alison and my dad.

My sister asked that I help clean out the basement, which was mostly my dad’s stuff, but also some of mine and my brother’s randomness here and there.

I’ll tell you more about all that later but do you remember when I told you about the paper umbrellas and my dad?

Well, there’s a coda to that story: He had alla these scary, but cool looking, mugs and glasses that we weren’t allowed to use. Those were for the customers.

Only discovered when I was older that they were tiki mugs and my dad’s restaurant – called Aloha Teahouse – was fashioned after a Japanese hibachi restaurant and tiki bar.

Fast forward to last week. My sister wrote my brother and me that she found a whole box of these.

Sister: Finally giving away these mugs from Aloha Teahouse that dad kept in the garage.
Me: (shocked) Wait! Is there one I could have?! I didn’t realize we had these!

Evidently, they’ve been sitting in our garage since 1984 and I never knew.

Asked her to hold onto four of them for me and she did. My book bag was already stuffed to the brim with things to bring back to my pad, which I’ll tell you about later.

Mom: Just bring back the cups next time.
Me: I can’t. I’m worried they’ll break or they’ll be lost. I gotta bring them back now.

Took my time getting home because I had to manage the kid, all the junk I was hauling back, the food my mom and sister gave me, and the treasure in my bag.

After getting the kid settled and putting away the food, I gently washed each one of the cups and dried them. Once the kid went to sleep, I put all four of them onto the kitchen table and stared at them.

The last time I laid eyes on them was in 1980, 42 years ago.

I had never drunk out of any of them because my dad wouldn’t let me since we were so young.

Somehow, they gave me comfort. I still haven’t drank out of them yet but I will. Maybe in 42 years.

They made me feel like my dad was still around.


I’ve not seen nor spoken to Mouse in months.

But we used to have this thing that we used my little cubby in the gym as a dropbox; I’d leave her things like stuff she left in my house and she’d leave random things for me, like a magazine she knew I loved to read but never bought.

A few months ago, I came in and found these paper umbrellas there.

No real reason, she just decided to leave them there for me.

I asked her why later on – she didn’t leave a note or anything, but I knew it was her – and she said that she just wanted me to have them so I could make the kid a Shirley Temple and tell him stories of my dad.

And that, in a nutshell, is Mouse.

As for me, I think I will use them for exactly what she suggested.

Maybe even with these cups/mugs. Maybe.

Him: Why can’t I touch them?
Me: Because they’re from my papa. He’s not here anymore and I miss him so much that just having these make me think he’s here. Because they were his, so they’re special to me.
Him: (sadly) I don’t know why but that makes me sad. I’m sorry your daddy isn’t here. (thinking) Can I give you a hug?
Me: Heck, yeah – c’mere, kid!

Quick little admin note, Chad and I are in a podcast this Friday the 13th at 11AM so tune in and check us out?

Here’s where you can go:

 

Location: 1979, a barstool in a hibachi restaurant on New York Route 141, drinking a Shirley Temple from a highball made by my dad
Mood: gutted
Music: I just wish I could have told him in the living years (Spotify)
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