I was here while visiting my mother, having traveled over 3,000 miles—something I do every couple of months to spend time with her in memory care. After three long days at her bedside, about 10 hours each day, I stepped out hoping for a small, peaceful break in the sunshine. Wine has always been something special to me—it reminds me of my mom, of Portland, and of a beautiful wedding in Willamette Valley, so I was really looking forward to this experience.
I dined alone on the patio. The service started off lovely, and I was enjoying my wine tasting. A couple was seated very close beside me, which felt a bit awkward, but that can happen when you’re traveling solo. As more tables were seated, I noticed others receiving their meals while I had only been served bread and my wine.
After quite a long wait and growing increasingly hungry, I flagged down the server to ask about my order. It turned out my meal had been forgotten. The couple next to me even commented on it, which added to the discomfort. When the server returned, she let me know the wine would be comped, but I would still need to pay for the bread, and they could start my salmon order then.
At that point, I had already been waiting far too long and needed to get back to my mother. I declined, and unexpectedly found myself overwhelmed and in tears. It wasn’t just about the missed meal, it was the feeling of being overlooked in a moment when I really needed a small, restorative break.
I left without ever receiving my lunch, still hungry, and deeply disappointed. I understand that mistakes happen, but a bit more attentiveness, empathy, and care could have made a meaningful difference in what was, for me, a very personal and needed outing.