July 31 — Last Evensong
Less than three weeks later, I have no recollection of this day. Which is sad, and tells me something about the fleeting nature of memory. This was our last full day with Christy before she left. I’ll just have to content myself with a memory from the following day — our last evensong:
Lauren had asked me to light three candles. She had peach cobbler in the oven. Christy was still packing. She’d be leaving the next day but we had to get on the road tonight. I couldn’t find the lighter, so I used matches from the little bowl in the dresser in the dining room. They’d been there all year. There was no box to strike them on, but I had the idea of lighting them off the gas stove. Yes, that would do it. I felt clever.
Ten minutes later we were sitting around the broken, grey coffee table in the living room, floating in a pool of emotions. Christy loved Evensong as much as I did, perhaps even more, and I could feel how much she would miss it. I would too.
