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The Brick Building That Established Best Friends 

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The Brick Building That Established Best Friends 

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Growing up going to my grandparents house was like going to the candy store, not because of the tremendous amount of junk I would soon consume once entering that brick house, but because I would be in the presence of my two favorite people.

Little Vianna would look forward to her Saturday pool days with gram, and you could never forget when Pop's occasional red and blue swim trunks would make an appearance. Gram and I always said he was just there for the snacks, but with Grams snack bag who wouldn't be. There wasn’t a time where the rectangular pool wasn't freezing although the fun granted once being “warmed up” was worth the two minutes of discomfort. After cannon balls, marco polo and twisty pretzels the dreaded departure was here. The freezing air and the grasp for the towels, yet my Papa always fulfilled the role of a doctor. A doctor? Yea they provide patients with medicine and my grandfather’s bear hug each time following the pool was just what I needed to be warmed up again.

Even the stairs in my grandparents house were exciting; while being topped with the “roller coaster.” The elevating seat may have been slow and a sign that my grandfather wasn’t as sharp as we had always known, although my cousins and I saw it as nothing other than a cool new feature to their home. Riding up the stairs was our favorite thing to do although seeing if I could beat Pop and the ride up always had us saying “Woohoo”.

My weekend trips continued even as I grew and by the age of ten I would be seen beating Pop in a game of Monopoly (maybe even two.)

Although one day everything got so blue, Pop couldn't walk anymore and it was so hard to visit him in the ICU.

That once magical brick house turned gray and it became reality that my guy wouldn't be here, not today nor tomorrow or the following day. Those moments I cherished the most would forever be memories and that was always so hard for me to say.

For a while my Saturday visits stopped because I couldn’t bare to see my favorite place without my guy near. Yet it became clear that Gram and I could use a shoulder to lean on. So my Saturday visits became Monday, Wednesday and Friday nights. Our weekly visits consisted of spaghetti (Grams is the best) sprinkles with a side of ice cream, and talking, or not talking; there would be times of silence, times where the smile disappeared after the “yeah pop always loved that” and the greatest times of laughter over each others “blondeness” or our weekly episode of Chrisley Knows Best.

Being in each other's presence brought such a sense of comfort as well as a will to grow. Four years later and although our visits aren't as prompt I’m lucky to call Gram a best friend while knowing we have and could get each other through whatever life may throw at us. My grandfather always said that when he was to go up to heaven he could only hope we’d prioritize our family; I like to think that he’d withhold pride when looking down to see the happiness we’ve regained in that brick building.

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Testo's Restaurant & Catering, Madison Avenue, Bridgeport, CT

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A Restaurant That's Watched a Family Grow

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A Restaurant That's Watched a Family Grow

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Growing up with an extended family of fifteen is made to sound so difficult; I would be lying to say that assumption wasn’t somewhat true although my family always made it work when setting a “meeting spot” in place.

Testo’s, a restaurant to other people yet a place close to the heart for the Cavallo family. It’s a place that has been through so much with us alongside workers of whom have watched us grow.

The menu expanded from chicken tenders to chicken marsala and not all fifteen of us were able to make it to that long rectangular table anymore. We went from having Scooby Doo birthday parties to hosting engagement dinners. As the kids table gained wives the adults table lost husbands.

There’s many Testo’s nights I cherish yet our fourth of July celebration will always be my favorite. After being split up due to Covid we were all still getting rid of the jitters of being back together again. Although this time was different, for a while all of us being “together” disregarded my brother. After coming to terms with his lengthy stationing for the Air Force, we all just kept going; sure we knew he wasn’t there yet it was almost easier to act as though everything was normal. Getting into the car that fourth of July night with all four of us felt surreal, as having “the Colon sibling” part of the kids table take dominance again felt so good. My moms once annoying “photo time” was appreciated, as we all wanted to remember the moment in which we had longed for during every “I’ll face time you when I can” and “We miss you.”

It was a night I’ll always keep close to my heart when remembering the amount of pride in which I was consumed with. It wasn’t that I was proud of myself nor any individual but my family as a whole. I gained pride while witnessing the smiles all fifteen of us were wearing, and was granted comfort when realizing that we had all stuck by one another to get to this exact moment. To regain the laughs, to lose the sibling rivalries between the cousins and instead gain best friends. That random fourth of July was the night I gained appreciation for the dinners I was once “dragged” to and realized they were now the nights that I looked forward to.

So Testo’s may be a random building to anyone else although I’m happy to drive past the familiar restaurant carrying a sense of gratitude in knowing that, fifteen years later  the once unknown Italian restaurant provides my family a place to be our loud, overwhelming and loving selves time and time again.

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Growing up and Gaining New Perspectives on JFK Air Port.

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Growing up and Gaining New Perspectives on JFK Air Port.

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“I’m off to Japan, two years.” A sentence in which I tried so hard to prepare myself for, yet one that made me feel as though I could no longer breathe. Two years without my big brother here, who would keep all the boys away? America’s Got Talent would be lonely without my guy near to vote for the most talented here.

With a month to prepare,  the time was here. Driving up to the airport was one of those car rides that you want to get out of, while hoping to avoid the final destination. Once pulling into the airport I knew I had to be strong, considering my brother was the one walking away from everything, my family and I always tried to keep it together in hopes he would walk away knowing we were okay.

“I’ll be back Vi, I promise.'' The hug was one so tight and one I didn't want to let go of yet I had to if I wanted to walk away portraying myself as someone who has come to terms with her best friend leaving, and being gone for so long.

My mom and I would wait until Seb’s plane took off before leaving.Sometimes we’d be there for a couple of minutes other times a couple of hours. Looking out the passenger's seat window always came alongside a dreary look. The airport was filled with countless people with a huge range of reasons. I would observe departures similar to the one I had just experienced as well as homecomings like the one I was longing for. The people rushed in and out of those dark doors, leaving me curious as to the reasoning behind their stance or the expressions they withheld.

After getting the “About to take off” text we’d pull out of that dreary airport. I’d leave each time missing a piece of me while also wondering if everyone else was feeling as hollow as I did once exiting that airport.

November 3rd 2020- Driving up to the airport felt so different this time, because instead of dreading the “goodbye” I was anticipating the “hello.”

Pulling into that once ‘hollow’ parking lot came alongside such a purpose, I was reminded of the sadness I withheld  after receiving the “About to take off'' text and was amazed that we were finally awaiting the “I just landed text.”

I couldn’t have been happier to be sitting in that once  “dreary” airport, and for some reason it didn't  withhold the dark look I recalled when looking outside my passenger seat window, rather displayed a kind of brightness; one that flowed throughout my family, from myself and my brothers girlfriend trying to keep our hands from shaking too hard while grasping the “ 515 Days Later… Welcome Home AirMan Colon'' poster to my parents hoping to hold back their tears.

Sprinting through those doors, the ones I once viewed with remorse for splitting my family up felt different , it was different, it felt longer, a kind of length I wouldn't mind reliving one that almost felt accomplished.

Once I reached my brothers fautiges and Patriots hat, I gained a part of myself back, the weight in which I carried on my shoulders all those days was gone. The clapping as we took pictures and the smiles portrayed on our faces, we were a family again, we had overcome the “ I wish you could be here’s” and “ it wasn’t the same without you.” We were granted the hug we had been longing for, as well as the comfort in knowing that we were finally reunited; that after every canceled flight and missed holiday/birthday it was as though no time had passed.

That night will forever be my favorite, when having witnessed the outcome of my family sticking together through the challenging times, and receiving the kind of moments we cherish as our greatest memories.