EDITOR”S NOTE: Rose Bruno Bailey spent a year working at Canters Deli, the dining spot on Fairfax Avenue that draws a substantial crowd from West Hollywood. This is the sixth and final in a series of essays about her year there and the positive impact Canters’ owners, her co-workers and her customers had during a difficult time in her life.
Sometimes something you do not want ends up being something you needed. Those words were spoken to me by my co-worker Charisse my first days working at Canters Deli.
I never imagined I would love Canters. In the beginning I almost didn’t survive, but manager Amy’s motivation and Charisse’s wise words convinced me otherwise. I felt uncomfortable, awkward and terribly out of place those first weeks. Soon those unwelcome emotions would give way to admiration, respect and kinship. I realized sometimes when we feel we do not fit in a situation we need to look deep within. It’s not them but us. If you decide you do not belong, well frankly you don’t. Not everything is so black and white, new experiences are usually discovered in the gray areas.
For me, revisiting my past and my mother’s waitress life made me realize that we are all more alike than different. I was happy I made the choice to work my last six shifts at Canters before my move to Houston, despite the loss of my mother. I almost believe I was meant to be there when I got the sad news that she passed away. Fate didn’t give me the gift of a final goodbye to my beloved mother, but I believe she was looking down, watching me do what she once did best; waitressing and working hard for the money. She was a survivor and so am I. I was more like her than I ever imagined and I took immense pride in that fact.
On my last shift I received a sign she was still with me, I looked up at the clock at exactly 8:10 p.m. and I realized it was exactly a week ago to the moment when I got the bad news while at work. I shook it off as coincidence, jumped back into waitress mode and greeted a woman dining alone doing a crossword puzzle. My mother loved doing crossword puzzles, and I mentioned it to the woman. The woman revealed to me she also lost her mother a few weeks ago. We offered each other solace, and I realized It was a sign to let go of my guilt of not being with her during her final moments.
I did however have the chance to give a proper goodbye and thank you to the owners, management, staff and guests at Canters. I survived one year of my husband James’ unemployment, and I didn’t do it alone. We were now on our way to a brand new beginning. But first I chose thank you’s and goodbye’s over time to grieve. Grief would always be there, but I had just one moment to show my gratitude for helping me get through this challenging year and I reveled in it. One of my favorite quotes by Robert Frost “The best way out is always through.”
Goodbye’s are never easy, and it’s always a struggle for me when it’s time to go. The people you work with become like family. Family is love, familiarity and comfort, family is not always defined by DNA alone.
My last days working my counter shifts, I took dozens of photos with anyone I could convince to pose with me. If you get opportunities in life to tell people you admire and love them, take them. Those last weeks were lessons for me, one missed opportunity and one lesson learned.
Goodbye to Steve who arrived daily with his walker to begin his afternoon with a cup of coffee; Canters coffee must be liquid gold because he does better than some people half his age. I would miss his stories of working in the film and television industry and professing his undying love for me.
Goodbye to excellenté Maria, who taught me by her sunny disposition that every day is truly “excellenté.” Goodbye to Skip, who I loved sharing stories with, to David who danced with me every time the hustle came on. Goodbye to Luke who delivered the donation of blankets to the Midnight Mission. Goodbye to Greg for being patient with me and to Amy who reminded me of a younger version of my mother. To Marianna my kindred spirit and to all my friends and fellow survivors.
Goodbye to everyone from the deli, to the kitchen, the bakery, dining room and management staff. Lastly, goodbye to the Canter’s owners and a big thank you.
A dear friend once told me every experience in life is artistic material. If Canters Deli was my muse, the people I encountered were my inspirations.
As friend and fellow waiter Brian said to me on my last day as we shared a goodbye hug; so much love.
So much love Canters, so much love.
Dedicated to the Canter’s owners, management, staff and guests …
… to my mother Shirley Bruno,
… and all fellow survivors.
