Wheeler's—where everybody knows your name

This morning I went to one of my dad's favorite hangout spots, Wheeler's. It's a pharmacy that has an old school diner in the back—it's the best. I went there often as a kid to load up on candy, buy NKOTB trading cards or get a burger and a chocolate shake with my dad. So I went there this morning for breakfast by myself (Liza was still sleeping, naturally) just to feel close to my dad, and to take a moment to remember him.

It doesn't look like much (partly because it was gloomy out and the camera fairy has not paid me a visit yet!), but the memories I have there are priceless. It's places like Wheeler's that make me feel happy that I grew up in a small city. Everybody really does know your name, and the charm is unlike anything else you can experience most places—especially New York.

My mom gave me instructions on where to sit—apparently it matters depending on the kind of dining experience you want. She said that the guys to the left are the "sharp shooters" who are always cracking jokes and talking about UK basketball (2,000 wins Woo Hoo!). Where did Dad sit? I asked. To the right, where it is quieter, she said. So that's where I sat. I still got an earful though. They talked about Christmas plans and grandchildren, but mostly basketball. And I overheard one of them say, "Hey Harvey, come sit next to me so I don't have to look atcha!" God, I love old men.

I ordered the stack of three large pancakes and ate them with zero guilt. They could totally rival the pancakes at even the fanciest brunch places in New York—I couldn't believe how light and fluffy they were! I'm sure the mix is nothing special, but there must be something the waitresses do to make them that way. Most of the waitresses have been working there since before I got a training bra, so I doubt they'll share any secrets with me. Another amazing thing is that they cook the food themselves and serve it! And, it's insanely fast.

I've always thought this sign was so cute: "Smile and have friends, frown and have wrinkles." And look at that milkshake machine—that is some old school shit right therrre.


Does anyone else have a favorite hangout spot at home? What makes it special?

Feeling Guilty...again

Stop rolling your eyes--this post isn't going to be a rant about how I ate my feelings last night. Instead, I'm going to switch gears a little bit and talk about something that has been weighing on my mind for the last few years.

As I told you in this post, my dad passed away from lung cancer three years ago. The anniversary of his death is coming up in two weeks, and lately I've been thinking about how these last few years have been without him. I think about him all the time and miss him a lot, but I only occasionally cry about the fact that he is gone. In all honesty, I've coped with his death well.

For the past three years I have felt guilty about this. I felt that the more tears I shed, the more I would prove to myself how much my dad meant to me. I've even found myself feeling happy when I cry for him. See, I haven't forgotten about you, Dad. See how much I love you.

Before I got my current gig at The Knot, and was able to enjoy daytime TV, I saw a Dr. Phil show that made me feel a lot better about this burden I've been carrying. He was talking to a mother who lost her son in the war. She said she feels guilty every time she laughs or has a happy moment. Then Dr. Phil replied with something like, "Your tears don't signify your love for him. Just because you aren't crying, doesn't mean you are over the fact that he is gone. He would want you to be happy." OK, so what Dr. Phil said was a lot more profound, but you get the idea.

I can't say that his words made me feel 100% better, but they have helped a lot. And it's true, my dad would want me to be happy. I think one reason I have dealt with his death so well is the fact that my parents raised me with a "This is life, things happen," mentality. I'm not one to feel sorry for myself or act like I have it so much harder than everyone else. (Even though I do quite a bit of whining on this blog). I realize how blessed I am no matter what other hurdles may come my way down the road. And I like that I was raised this way. I know a lot of other people who totally freak out at the smallest things--it's not something I can really comprehend.

Anyway, I do feel a little better for sharing. If anyone else has something they'd like to get off their chest today, you know what to do.