File under you can’t go home again…
This morning I had my annual visit to the doctor and afterwords, as I do every year, I was going to treat myself to a bagel and coffee from the bagel shop that I used to work at in high school. It used to be a Chesapeake Bagel Bakery but those have all gone the way of the dodo…it eventually became some other sort of café, but still sold/made bagels as they had a large, rotating 5-shelf oven in the back. Come to find this morning, it’s now a kabob place. Yup. No bagels to be found. But meat on a stick, in spades.
This comes at a particularly bitersweet time as today is the day my parents leave the area. They’re going to the closing on their Virginia house this morning and have already closed on their new house in Tennessee. This morning on my way to the now defunct bagel shop I drove by the apartment complex where we slept for a few nights when my mother, my sister and I first joined my father in the area back in 1986. Little pieces of a puzzle that when assembled make up the story of my life.
I ended up hitting a different bagel shop on Route 7 that has apparently been there since right before I graduated high school and enjoyed a dang tasty everything bagel with scallion cream cheese. Starting a new tradition on the day when my parents lives shift in a different direction.
Change, while daunting, intimidating and sometimes downright scary, is a necessary evil. It enables us to grow, to learn and, in my case, to find new bagel bakeries.