For the 16 years that we have been married and the 19 years that we have been together, I have heard Elysha talk about The Red Rooster, a restaurant in Brewster, NY, where she and her family often stopped on their way to and from the Berkshires every weekend.
Coming home from a Broadway show in New York City last weekend, Elysha looked at the map on her phone, realized how close The Red Rooster was to our current position, and suggested we stop by.
At last, I would finally see the fabled Red Rooster.
Also, we had apparently been driving within three miles of it for most of our marriage. Whenever we visit New York City, which is often, we almost always pass by the town of Brewster, where the restaurant is located. I’m not sure why Elysha took so long to suggest we stop.
In fact, a few years ago, I attempted to take Elysha to The Red Rooster for our anniversary, thinking she might love the food and nostalgia, only to be told that it was not an anniversary dinner type of restaurant.
When I reminded Elysha of this, she laughed, admitting that today, it seems like the perfect place for an anniversary dinner.
A good reminder of how quickly we can change our minds.
The fear, of course, is that after nearly two decades of hype, The Red Rooster would fail to deliver. What we remember as glorious as children often fails to hold up when we return as adults.
This was not the case for The Red Rooster.
The restaurant is a 1950s-styled fast food place with good food, a fantastic atmosphere, and outstanding service. On this particular evening, a local DJ played songs from the 1950s and 1960s, making the whole experience even better. The place had expanded since Elysha last visited, adding indoor dining space, quality restrooms, an enormous patio, and lots of additional seating.
A mini golf course stands adjacent to the restaurant, and an enormous rooster greets visitors by the front door.
But it was the big rock that garnered most of our attention. When Elysha was a little girl, she remembers climbing, sitting, and eating on an enormous rock just outside the restaurant. The rock was still there, of course, though not nearly as large as Elysha remembers.
Things tend to become a lot smaller through the eyes of an adult.
Still, the kids thought the rock was plenty big, so they climbed atop the same rock their mother climbed upon as a little girl.
These are the moments that I adore:
When the past and present are inextricably connected through memory, object, and meaning. A little girl who once played atop a rock outside a favorite restaurant had the chance to see her own children climb atop the same rock decades later.
Glorious.
Perhaps someday, Charlie or Clara’s children will do the same.
