Loss and Love

As the year, woe another year, comes to a close. There leaves another place of community in our town. Momona, a place of delicious food and friendly people, closes its doors. I was lucky enough to find a seat on their final day of business, not for lack of trying previously, the wait was normally too long and I am not one for patience. The food was wonderful. My ramen spicy, warm, a portrait of flavor. I sat at the bar and ate alone, not that the place was empty of patrons. There were people to my left and right. The servers rushed around with a comfortable authority and dedication to their craft. I say I ate alone yet it would be a disservice to not mention the wonderful company of the bartender. A friend of mine; he made the experience much more comfortable and not to mention, enjoyable. I left for a moment after completing my meal. I needed another drink and being squished between two large men whilst on a small stool is not something I would call pleasurable. Forgoing that small adventure, I returned to Momona for their “celebration of life” after party. I met many an interesting people. Saw many I knew. There was an air of celebration, yet it was not a celebration. Beneath the mask of smiles, many tears were shed. Sadness gripped the air; a miasma that only went noticed to the aware and the related. It felt like a wake for a dead child. Something loved that was ripped away. I sat and watched, meandering around with a touch of feeling out of place. I was only able to interview one person. That fantastic bartender from before. I have sympathy for his situation. He began employment here about two years ago on recommendation that he should avoid a different establishment. That other place has a poor reputation on how it treats its workers. Of course, while Momona closes its doors with a departing staff who seemed to love and are gripped with sadness for its death; that other place with a poor reputation is still in business. It will most likely remain that way for quite some time. People talk of karma and their belief in it. I have rarely seen its hand at work. The bartender told me of his plans to travel, to learn a third language, to find a place off this depraved continent where he can be at peace. I am sad for Momona, but life is a hunt for silver linings and its closing may give this wonderful bartender the push he needs to find his dream. If not his dream, hopefully a sense of contentment. I have said before, Chico gives and Chico takes. This night it took, it took much. Rest in peace Momona, may all your people find something worth their time. Hopefully they can find a semblance of you.