The last time my daughter and I had breakfast at RJ’s Cafe in Dana Point, we sat up at the counter. It was noisy. It wasn’t as private as it is when we sit at a table or in a booth by ourselves, but the conversation flowed easily as it always does there.
Sometimes we talk about just what’s going on in our lives: family, friends, school, our jobs. But sometimes we dig down a little deeper and talk relationships, philosophy and ethics, religion and politics.
Light or heavy, our breakfasts at RJ’s are always satisfying.
We’ve been going there since Genevieve was in middle school. Often it’s when her mother’s working or she’s not in school or working, and it’s just the two of us. She’ll suggest we go out for breakfast or I will, and more often or not, we go to RJ’s.
I’ve always thought I was open with my parents when I was growing up, but my daughter is far less reserved than I was. I was sort of shocked at first, but I’m glad how open she can be.
The conversations with our French toast have changed as she’s grown up. But they’ve always seemed to go somewhere significant.
We used to talk about her friends, how they got along, how they treated each other. Or school, how the teachers were really good or really unfair. Then came boys.
Driving and proms and summer jobs came next. Now we’re talking about college and careers.
Sometime during those high school years, our roles started to evolve into something new. Not so much Dad answering questions about what she should do anymore. She started to ask questions about me and how I’m doing. How am Ireallydoing? And how do I handle that?
And she started to interview me. She can be relentless and skeptical, asking question after question like her journalist dad but temper that with the gentle reassurance of her teacher mom.
I’ve told her stuff I would never have told my parents, things that happened that I would never have imagined I would share with my daughter, hoping she’ll learn from my mistakes.
We’ve grown into talking like two adults at breakfast. I’ve started to let go of my adviser role as she has found her own way, and she even has some advice for me sometimes.
I’m not sure why our time at RJ’s always seems so special. We talk at home, and in our family, we say what’s on our minds, no holds barred. And the three of us go to RJ’s when it’s not too crowded.
But when we’re alone there, it’s different. It’s intimate. Part of it might be that we’re so comfortable because we know most of the servers and RJ; they’re always happy to see Genevieve. Part of it might be that we relate in a little different way when we’re by ourselves and away from home. It just feels like a time to really talk. Maybe part of it is the good food.
The last time we were there, while we watched the servers take their orders from the window to the kitchen and punch up their checks at the computer, we talked about the future. With her freshman year behind her, we’ve been talking about college majors and what kind of careers they might lead to. Whatever she chooses, she wants to help people. She’s already the go-to person for her friends.
I think she’ll be successful. I know she’s helped me.
