Our House

It used to be that a Friday night date at the House of India meant that our daughter was having a sleepover at Grandma and Grandpa’s. Last night it so happened that she, too, was out on a date.

Times change.

She’s moving forward through her senior year of high school, trying to hold all the moving pieces together: school work, leadership roles in student organizations, extracurriculars like a capella singing and musical theatre. Applying for college, Applying for a summer job. Her dad and I are just trying to keep up.

Last night was the first time in a very long time that the two of us sat in a restaurant across from each other and had a moment to catch our breath. The House of India has been a date night destination for us for so long that I can’t remember when it started. Chefs have changed, management has changed, even ownership has changed over the years but we keep going back.

We have made many memories there. Not big, “post your status on Facebook” memories, but small, life-nourishing ones. Moments where your eyes meet over the table and you really look at one another. The sharing of laughter after long weeks of stress. Times when there wasn’t much to say but the hand that reached across the table to hold mine was a lifeline.

Howard County has plenty of Indian restaurants. We have tried a lot of them. But somehow we keep coming back to House of India. It’s our “home place.” They treat us like long lost relatives and frequently proffer appetizers or dessert on the house. Once, when our daughter was a squirmy, fussy toddler during a birthday meal for a friend a waiter showed up at her place unexpectedly with a dish of chocolate ice cream. It was a hit. She made it through the meal.

Next year she will very likely be away at college and my husband and I will have more time to reconnect than we know what to do with. Should we feel the drag of empty nest syndrome, I think a visit to House of India may be just what the doctor ordered.