One Man Band

This morning Jack and I ate breakfast at One Man Band. The breakfast spot my dad used to take me to every Saturday morning. They serve greasy breakfast food anytime to loyal customers who sit in red vinyl booths on black and white checkered floors.  I helped Jack slide a quarter into the jukebox and watched his face light up as the old thing came to life.  I was flooded by memories of my dad placing quarters in my hand and telling me to "pick out a good one." Jack devoured his french toast and chatted excitedly to everyone who walked by. It was just breakfast. But it was so much more.
I feel so incredibly grateful for all of the good memories I have in that diner and so incredibly blessed by the opportunity I have to create more.