Assumptions outside a Huddle House

You've now been gone for 1 whole month. Hard to believe, or even bare to think. Your dad took off for the boat several weeks ago in hopes of fixing it up and selling it. He was successful in half of that endeavor. He returned yesterday. He wrote the following blog about you and wanted to share.

A guest blog post by Dan Kiessling:

I agree with Holly’s realization that thoughts occur of Chelsea considerably while driving.  That is especially true with me and today, returning from Gulf Shores was definitely one of those times.   We traveled many places together and she was my favorite travel companion on land, sea, and air.  I ran into an old boat friend and former marina neighbor last weekend and upon hearing of Chelsea’s passing he immediately recognized a portion of my grief by saying “She was your boat partner wasn’t she?”  That she was and more.

We got on the road late in the day once heading for Gulf Shores, the boat for a few days and on to the New Orleans Jazz Festival.  Like her travels with Holly, there were a lot of volume and music devices argued over and constantly adjusted.  Eventually things were settled and the drive continued on into the evening.  I could never really tell when she napped cramped into the corner of the small Mazda.  Often she would appear that way and then start singing along with the buds planted in her ears and not what I was listening to on the radio. 

 

Eventually late that night it was necessary to stop in Alabama for some gas and food.  Our options were somewhat limited that late at night so I pulled into a small station with a neighboring Huddle House.  It did not appear as though we were in the savory section of the state, but being Alabama, it was hard to tell.  An old black fellow was attached to the outside corner of the station holding court with several other fellows.  It was difficult to tell whether he had spent his life working hard or looking down an MD 20/20 bottle he certainly appeared not to have had an easy life and now seemed to be enjoying himself by holding the attention of his fellows on the corner. 

As I was pumping gas Chelsea unwound herself from the car and went into the restroom.  Sleepy eyed, tussled and of course wearing her too shorts (discussed in one of Holly’s earlier posts).  The conversation on the corner of the building ceased and eyes went from Chelsea to me and back again.  It was easy to imagine the thoughts of those seeing this old man with a young good looking girl late at night.  I am sure “arm candy”, “trophy” and other not so kindly thoughts went through their minds.  I imagine thoughts involving an old man with a large ego problem and larger wallet was probably very evident.

I moved the car to the side lot and we entered the Huddle House and I sat where I could keep an eye on the car and the characters on the corner.  We split the grits and hash-browns, ate our own eggs and I learned much to my pleasure, that my daughter now drank coffee.  Our bantering increased as we drank more caffeine and we both became more animated.  I cannot remember all we spoke of but as always her laughter was present.  I do remember discussing what a mixed fruit tree must look like.   I occasionally glanced out the window and caught a few in the crowd looking back at us.

After what I remember as a very enjoyable meal we were ready to get back underway.  As I walked near the old fellow on the corner he said one word to me.  It was not a question but an affirmative one word statement- “Daughter”.  I acknowledged his correctness with a nod of my head and we continued our trip.  I spent the next few miles trying to figure out how he had come to that conclusion and then put it from my mind.  I stopped in the same station today on my journey back.  He was nowhere to be seen, probably too early in the day.  I had figured out how he knew though.  He saw the light that she brought to my life, a light like no other and I now knew that he too had a daughter.  I wish him well and I wish that that light would shine again.