Family Fridays at the Diner

My immediate family of four – my mother, father, younger sister, and myself – went out to dinner every Friday evening with my maternal grandparents. We ventured out of the Bronx and headed north (all 15 minutes!) to the Thru-Way Diner in New Rochelle, New York.

This place was a Westchester mainstay for decades. And every week, my sister and I begged to go to McDonald’s – not knowing why these Friday dinners had to be such a big production! Luckily, my sister and I never rarely, if ever, got our way.

As I’m now in my late 40s, these days were long ago. I only have sparse memories, which include many conversations about brands of cars and job searches, my sister and I making “potions” with water, sugar, salt, and pepper, and my grandfather strongly advising me not to order the lasagna because he didn’t think I’d eat it. Sometimes, my sister would melt down and wind up in the car with my dad.

The dinner always ended with my parents and grandparents drinking what had to be the largest cup of coffee ever – or at least it seemed that way to my sister and me. And then, my grandmother and father lit their cigarettes for some “extra” family time. Seriously, there’s only so much drawing on the placemat that we could do. We want to go home!

My grandma was adorable…short, thin, sexy little mama – who selfishly didn’t pass many genes down to the rest of us. She stored tangerine lifesavers and coffee nips in her bag. During the holidays, she always put out various nuts, a nutcracker, and those fruit slice things, and she loved Entenmann’s chocolate-covered donuts. And would you believe that she never had gray hair?

My grandfather (we called him Poppy) was an original. He was a presence. For anyone who knew him, this statement is self-explanatory! He’d get angry or insulted in a quick minute. Nonetheless, he was highly protective of his family. The memories are plenty – and completely one-of-a-kind…the time he called my boyfriend (now husband) fat, the stint in a Madonna video, and a stern warning that Pringles were poison.

Routine or Tradition?

Every week, we’d go. It was our routine that morphed into a tradition. The dinners ended shortly after I got my first job at 16. My grandparents moved to Florida a few years later, and I went to college. 30+ years later, here we are. Suddenly, my children sit where my sister and I once did. My husband and I sit where my parents once did. And my parents sit where my grandparents once did.

Although we’ve tried, the dinner/diner tradition hasn’t transitioned quite as consistently. When we make plans, my kids respond similarly to how my sister and I did back in the day. (As non-intentioned but well-trained homebodies, they want to stay home instead of hitting McDonald’s, but that’s another story!).

Half of me gets annoyed and embarrassed. Yet, my other half understands because I’ve been in their shoes. My sister and I were not mean-spirited children, and neither are my children. There have never been any bad intentions. Not that we didn’t enjoy our grandparent’s company – or that my children don’t enjoy their grandparent’s company. We didn’t sense any better. We were so lucky to have these loving grandparents, but the value was lost on us.

If We Knew Then, What We Know Now

You may be sitting there thinking, “Lady, this is on you!” Understood, to a point, but hear me out a bit.

I’ve concluded that kids may be too young to appreciate their grandparents (or other familial relationships). They do not have enough life experiences to fully understand the beauty of it all. 

As parents, we strive to establish the importance of family and history – but think about it – most children can’t think past themselves, let alone timing and mortality. Aspects of life are taken for granted.

But now that we’re older? Imagine being able to ask your grandparents, great-grandparents, etc. about their upbringing and listening to stories about their lives now? Now that you understand “life” more? What a gift that would be! I wish I learned more about their history and who they really were before they passed away, but in all likelihood, I merely didn’t realize that these times wouldn’t last forever. It’s a bummer that it was too early in my life to understand the value of this special relationship fully. Grandparents are wasted on the young!

In 20/30 years, God willing, my husband and I will be my parents. And my children will be my husband and I. And if they have children, those kids will be “them.” The hope is that we carry on traditions as best we can. The importance may not be seen immediately by kids, but it will be seen later. I do not doubt it. I couldn’t be happier that my family had that weekly tradition, although there’s no way I fully appreciated it or understood it when I was younger.  

The End of an Era…in More Ways Than One

The diner outlived my grandparents, who passed away in 2005 and 2007. The Thru-Way diner closed in 2008 and made way for a Walgreens, which wound closing in 2014. I believe the site remains unoccupied. Although a new diner opened not far from this original location, it’s not the same. Don’t get me wrong – the food, atmosphere, and service are fine – it just doesn’t emit the same feelings from me.

I have so many memories about this Thru-Way Diner, too….a waitress named Mary; the toilet seats that left your behind frozen as ice; times when a bunch of us Bronx kids went to chow down on french fries and gravy after a night out in the burbs; the time the jukebox played “I Want A New Drug,” by Huey Lewis and the News over and over again….we thought my mother would lose her mind; and since my birthday is two days after St. Patrick’s Day, we celebrated with leftover Green & White cupcakes (think black and white cookie) from St. Patrick’s Day. This very same diner was the last stop at my Bachelorette Party….. I coincidentally ran into my husband’s Bachelor Party there (except they needed to drop him off at home first!).

But those Friday nights are obviously what sticks out most. My sister and I had no idea what was being created at the time. Fridays at the diner were our tradition, and I reflect on them with fondness and smiles, along with good tears and sad tears.

What Can We Do?

Each family has their own way of doing “Fridays at the Diner.” As parents, we instill what we can, and in an effort for a gentle plea to the kids now, though – be good citizens and take it easy on your parents and grandparents….they merely want to spend some with you and get to know you. And in you, they see the best parts of themselves and the impact they’re leaving on the world. You won’t regret it.

But moms and dads – if the kids give you a ‘tude, cut them a little slack – even if they’re not feeling it now, they’ll cherish it eventually – granted, it may be 15/20 years from now, but they’ll get there. Our children may have to stumble upon the realization themselves, like my sister and I did – that these dinners aren’t meant to take time away from their friends or video games. They are about life and memories. They are about getting to know where you came from – and who got you there. They’ll be lying in their bed drifting off to sleep, and it’ll click…”That’s what that was all about.”

What family traditions are you creating?