This morning, I attended the Billie Penn’s memorial service. The last time I saw her, she lent me a cookbook, with strict instructions that she wanted it back someday. Many times, I tried to return it. I’d call her apartment, trying to set up a time or take it to church in the hopes that she’d be there.
I took it with me to her service, with the intention of returning it to her daughter. When I told my little story to Denny, she paused and then asked, “would you like to keep it?” I said yes, and so now I have a little piece of Billie Penn to keep forever.