Aisle Six

The Death of A Home

If it’s true that home is where the heart is and that home is where we go for sanctuary, then I have recently lost a home. In all actuality, this home has been gone for at least a year, but I only found out about it today. Silk Road Teahouse in Chapel Hill is no more.

I loved college, but there are very few things I miss about it. I’ve found throughout life that I’m always happiest now—whenever that now happens to be. In college, I was the happiest I’d ever been. Being a stay-at-home-mom with a husband I love in our first house—now this is the happiest time of my life.

That being said, I miss two things about Chapel Hill very much. (I should say three, actually, as I also really miss being able to sleep all day and skip my responsibilities whenever I want.) The first thing is Jeff’s Confectionary, a small store on Franklin Street that had the best fountain Cokes ever. You could get them with cherry, vanilla, or chocolate. I used to pick one up every day on my way in to work at Whims Cards & Gifts, and if I was running late, Ike picked one up for me (which is one of the many reasons I married him). Jeff’s closed the year after I graduated.

The second thing I miss was also a place on Franklin Street, but it was further away from campus (and therefore further away from all the shit involved when 20,000 students convene on a street). Silk Road Teahouse. I remember the first time I visited Silk Road. I was with a close friend, a woman I still love and respect, named Rachel and her boyfriend Jeff (now her husband, also a person for whom I have a deep amount of respect). We went armed with books and ideas. They had been before and knew I would love it.

And did I ever love it…The restaurant served Turkish and middle eastern fare (I think it did, anyway, I’m not sure I ever ate the food) along with every flavor and type of tea I could have imagined. Alongside a few beautiful wooden tables, the floor was covered with throw pillows and rugs. Small tables were flanked by these pillows, upon which people sat or lay drinking tea, reading novels, talking to friends. I sat with Rachel and Jeff at one of these tables for hours that passed in minutes.

And then I went back. Yet another close friend, Heather, accompanied me the next time. I have journal entries about my frequent visits with Heather. Heather and I solved the world’s problems and avoided much studying while at Silk Road. The intimidating man with long red hair behind the counter flirted with Heather, who also has long red hair. I think we wanted to try a new tea each time we went, but I’m pretty sure we never got close to trying them all. Once we brought along a friend (who shall remain nameless, though I love her) who just didn’t get it. Sitting on the floor? Drinking tea?

But it was magical. It was the back of the wardrobe for my friends and me. When we walked through the glass doors of Silk Road, hearing the bells jingle above us, we became the dreamweavers and the magic makers. We were the poets, the philosophers, and the ones who mattered most.

The last time I visited Silk Road Teahouse was also with Heather. This time I was no longer in college, but instead now had a one-year-old son. I was exhausted all the time then and still somewhat unsure of my footing as a mother. Jake and I spent the day with Heather in Chapel Hill and Carrboro, and ended the evening at Silk Road. And yet again, it was a magical place. Jake loved it for the colorful rugs and pictures, as well as the wide open spaces. I loved it for the tea and conversation. I loved that once again, Heather and I could be queens of our own reality. I relaxed into myself, something that I did not do often at that early stage of motherhood.

Today I read that Silk Road was replaced by what seems to be a great restaurant. I believe it even has the same owners, though I can’t say I paid a lot of attention to the article after I read that Silk Road was no longer open. No matter how wonderful the restaurant may be, I can’t help feeling I’ve lost a home. The back of the wardrobe is only wood.

Posted by Becky at February 2, 2005 12:41 AM