Tonight we are out of town, waiting for another appointment on our new and unwanted journey. Wandering into the Whole Foods to get things for dinner that are on the approved eating list, I saw a package of lady fingers. The small, dull mini-cakes that you put into desserts such as berry trifle. And grief hit me hard. Unexpectedly. In a crowded supermarket, with no place to go with it.

For Sam’s high school graduation celebration, he didn’t want a cake. He wanted berry trifle, loaded with pudding and whipped cream, decadent, and just for him. We did have a cake, but that was really so we could write “Captain Sam Francoeur” (you have to read the book if you want to know why we needed to do that) on it. Two days before the party, I went to the store, and no lady fingers. They always had lady fingers, but not that day. The nice bakery clerk called around to other stores and found some, and early the morning of the party, I drove to the store to get them so I could make the trifle in time.

The lady fingers made me so sad tonight, then they made me smile. How thankful I am now that I kept going until I could make him that special dessert on his special day — if I hadn’t I surely would regret it now.

Tomorrow is Sam’s 26th birthday (forever 20), and I am sure that somehow, he will have berry trifle with lots of whipped cream.