Sen Yai Sen Lek means “Big Noodle, Little Noodle”. Cute. My personal noodle envisioned lunch at Costa Blanca Bistro, the next dining enterprise as we head up Central. But no. A sign on the door informs me that they open at 4 p.m. So much for lunch there! Fortunately, about 10 steps north one walks into the inviting atmosphere of Sen Yai Sen Lek. We (yes, for the first time on this adventure I have a lunching partner, long-time friend and former neighbor Janet who defected to the Pacific Northwest nearly a decade ago) choose the high-top table by a large window fully open to the sidewalk.
Open air dining at its best.
Our server told of us the lunch menu. For $12.99 one can order from a selection of Thai dishes. The special includes a choice of teas or Thai Iced Coffee. Easy choice on the beverage. If you haven’t had Thai Iced Coffee, as much as I cringe at the “bucket list” concept, add this to yours. All the lunch menu items are available with a tofu option, and heat level warnings are included. Janet selects the Pad Pad Taohoo (vegetables and tofu), and I choose Pad Bai Gra Pow, never before having eaten a Thai dish topped with a fried egg. Both are excellent. And I need to give props to the server, who is conspicuously gracious and helpful.
Sen Yai Sen Lek fills up with a diverse crowd of diners as the noon hour approaches and passes. This being my first accompanied “blog lunch” I observe that I observe less of the atmosphere and people. What one gains from the great pleasure of dining with a friend, one loses in present-moment awareness of surroundings.
Towards the end of the meal, my work phone rings with a call to immediate duty for support to a hospice family whose loved one had just died. Over my years of providing spiritual counseling to hospice patients and their families, many people have commented on how difficult or depressing such work must be. It is neither.
We are all going to die. Some will go suddenly from a heart attack or stroke, others will linger with dementia or another debilitating disease, some will “battle” cancer. The choice is ours only insofar as we take care of ourselves physically, emotionally, and spiritually while we still have time. Hospice teams make it possible for people to pass with dignity and comfort. Their families have the support to help them come to terms with the reality that is facing their loved one, and also assistance in the tremendously challenging job of caregiving. I love being involved in this respectful process, and am humbled by the trust people show as we are invited into their homes and their lives.
One thing I have learned–joy cannot co-exist with fear.
Until next week from Sabor Latino!