Do you remember what you said to me on our last day together? You told me that by the weekend, you’d be eating that banoffee pie that I had stashed away in the freezer for you. It was supposed to be your reward for losing the last of the weight you’d put on during your last trip to Athens. I knew it would work too since it was always your favourite.
It all seems so silly now.
The banoffee pie is gone. I think the movers threw it away when they were packing up the kitchen & transferring our life as we knew it into boxes…
I sat, watching them as they picked up the pieces that you left behind. Not that it matters really… our home could never be ours again as long as you aren’t there to share it with. Just a painful reminder of the beautiful life that we shared.
I haven’t baked in your absence. Actually, I haven’t even picked up a knife. It just hasn’t felt right. At least, not until now. The urge is coming back & I can’t get the thought of banoffee pie off of my brain. I think it would be good for me to make one again… not that I need it to remember how you would commandeer the whole pie & sneak off to a corner of the kitchen with the pie plate in front of you & a spoon in your hand.
I loved you for that. You always made sure I knew when you thought what I’d made was incredible. You gave me the confidence to try harder & get better.
I wont write a new recipe for the banoffee pie, you loved the original one so much you used to beg me not to change it. I will share the old one again though… I’ll share it with the hopes that anyone who misses you as I do will make one for you.
I miss you with my whole heart…