The Diner off the Freeway

Brandon Figliolino

April 20, 2018

The Diner off the Freeway

It reminds me of her

That diner just off the freeway

It’s the one with the trapezoidal sign that shines orange and bright

A faux sun, if I’ve ever seen one.

That sign, and the squat building adjacent to it

Draw motorists in for skillet breakfasts, homemade pie,

And a bit of respite.

The food is mediocre and cheap,

The décor tries a bit too hard to be “hip” and “coo” with its overuse of emojis and abbreviations.

Nevertheless, every time I pass that building and its towering sign, I smile and give it a nod because

I love it. 

We’d dine there together, in days long since passed

Talking about life, love, and struggles

She full of compassion,

Listened with intent to my trivial plights

And offered me wisdom over Earl Grey, runny eggs, and overcooked potatoes.

Many times, our breakfasts were frequent and scheduled,

But soon, they showed up less and less on the calendar

Until they didn’t show up at all.

It’s been nearly five years, and I have not dined there since.

All these years have passed, but that diner still reminds me of her,

Evokes powerful memories of

Our chats

Our hopes

Our dreams

Her smile

Her laugh

Her love for me.

The diner will soon be gone.

The sign that has stood tall for years,

Beckoning drivers to exit right for biscuits and gravy,

Has been removed,

And the squat diner’s interior scraped.

“COMING SOON: SOMETHING NEW” is plastered on the windows.

Perhaps, in its reincarnated life it will be something that doesn’t try so hard.

It is what it is.

A building means nothing to me,

Its demise is unfortunate, but not inevitable.

It’s the experiences inside those walls that matter

And I shall continue to keep them close.

Regardless of whether the walls remain upright and strong for years to come,

Or are knocked back down into dust,

Returning to the earth from which it came,

I know that buildings will never survive as long as love.

A Letter to my Unborn Nephew

                                                   April 14, 2018

Kannon,

Don’t touch a hot stove.
Do your homework.
Go play with your friends.

You’ll come to learn that grown-ups are bossy.  No lie!  Adults will tell you what you should do all the time.

You should learn to ride a bike.
You should try out for the school play.
You should listen to your mother.

Even more so, grown-ups will tell you what you will do.

You will eat that hamburger.
You will play baseball.
You will clean your room.

In many cases, they mean well.  Doing your homework helps you gain a better understanding of the world.  Playing with your friends creates community.  Listening to your mother keeps you from being grounded.

But I want to remind you that life will afford you many amazing opportunities, some conventional and some unique.  I should know!  I’ve done many things that may seem odd or weird to grown-ups.

You should feel free to explore your curiosities.  Want to learn to play hockey? Go for it!  Want to play a musical instrument?  Pick one!  Want to become a chef?  I’ll be your taste-tester!  None of these sound appealing?  Don’t worry.  You’ll find something that brings you joy, I know it!

I want you to feel comfortable trying new things, doing activities out of the ordinary, without fear of judgment.  Sometimes, grown-ups won’t understand why you want to do something, or why you like it.  Equally, your peers might not think what you like to do is “cool.”

Ignore them all.

Life is an amazing journey, so there’s no time to waste worry about what others think.  Do what you love.  Try new things.  If you get grief from anyone, have them come talk to your Uncle Brandon; then get back to having fun!

You will have an amazing life, Kannon, especially when you use your free time to do what makes you happy.  So feel free to explore all possibilities.  Regardless of what you decide to undertake, I’ll be your cheerleader supporting you every step of the way!

Love,

Uncle Brandon