After a less-than-stellar dining experience several years ago, my friend Jane said, “I come here for the friendship, not the food.”
That’s how I feel tonight. I’m only one week past my last infusion, my stomach is still cramping, and I can barely eat — but my friend Charlotte, who moved to Oklahoma three years ago, is in town for a few weeks, and this is the date she chose.
Charlotte and I were diagnosed with breast cancer in 1998 and met at the support group at St. Jude’s. We lived in the same town and were friends throughout our treatment. She was one of the original members of my Breast Cancer Survivors Exercise Class. The exercise class was canceled but the women still meet every other month for dinner.
Since she’s the guest of honor this month, Charlotte selects the restaurant, The Olive Garden. We try different eateries every time, and a restaurant usually doesn’t get back into rotation for several years, if ever.
It’s a great evening and I’m happy to not be the sole center of attention. I nibble two bites of a bread stick and decide that any more is pushing my luck.
It’s the friendship, not the food.
Left to right: me, Linda, Vicki, Charlotte, Jane, Nadine and Barbara.
My fashion details: vintage (I owned them since they were new) Indian tie-dye shorts, rose print scarf (1950s?) from Chez Mom, and this jewelry: