On most Saturdays I go for tea. It's become such a frequent event, that now the tea ladies know us by name. One in particular, a lady named from Wilhemena, who started the tea shoppe and named it after her Irish husband.
She brings us so much delight week after week. We tell her stories, and she remembers our order. When only one of us comes, she waits for the other to arrive before bringing the teapot. After travelling in Europe, we came back and told her that her tea shoppe was superior to many that we visited in the UK. She went into the kitchen and we could hear her tell the other ladies that "the girls thought OUR tea was better than Europe". We were the girls. Fantastic.
And then, the first week of April something terrible happened. She annoucned she was leaving - forever. She had worked there for over 14 years, and she was ready to have her freedom (and her Saturday's back). While we did feel quite bad about the Saturdays, we were very, very sad.
It's like one of those things you just count on - like the seasons changing, or Christmas every year. And when it changes, it's kind of shattering.
So last week we said our goodbyes.
And this week we couldn't go back. It was too soon. Maybe next week.