Yesterday morning, a friend frantically called saying he had been tasked to organize a dinner by a balikbayan barkada for tonight. The call was made yesterday, ergo tonight was tomorrow.
Prior to that he had sent a text message whose gist was similar. But in it he had indicated the resto and . The call was made as he consulted me on alternative venues as his chosen one had been reserved by someone else. He was in a panic.
Now this friend is rather difficult to please. Initially, I made the self-serving suggestion of having it in my favorite neighborhood resto, Ninyo. But he said that while he likes the resto, traffic in Katipunan was such a deterrent. So he brought up restos in the Greenhills area, particularly Promenade. By evening he called, still frantic to say he had chosen a one in P Guevara but the resto had 5 steps.
He rationalized how said resto’s ambience is more conducive to conversation; the restos in GH weren’t. He also assured me he had favorite waiters in said resto who would assist his mom up the steps. She was similarly in a wheelchair.
I balked when he mentioned the resto’s having steps. Husband has, on occasion, rejected the idea of going to a resto or anywhere where there are steps. I can understand where he’s coming from.
Where before, when we were younger, he didn’t mind having to carry me, sometimes across a flight of stairs like when we attended the seminar before our wedding (the priest knew we were coming but scheduled it on the second floor – maybe he wanted to test husband to be?) or went to the chapel of a school where an image of the Blessed Virgin was (my classmate nun said it was miraculous, she was a novice of said school’s religious order), in recent years, husband has shunned negotiating stairs and steps when I’m arround. He must be being careful about his back. And I’m glad he is. Further, he does not want to have strangers’ carrying me in my wheelchair up or down steps, without his being part of the “carriers” or son at the very least. (note that in the past, he’d carry me up steps bodily and have someone bring the wheelchair up so it would be ready when we’d get to the top of the stairs).
Told our friend this but he said I should pressure the husband. Like I wanted to?
Reflecting on the invitation and the circumstances surrounding it, this analogy occurred to me:
I am invited to dinner. The menu has lots and lots of entrees. But the one who organized the dinner chooses to order a crab dish alone even if he knows I have allergy to it. He does promise to provide an antihistamine. And does.
So are we going?
The answer lies in the stars.