Yep, I Was Right

Through out the many goodbyes of the past couple months, there was one that loomed heavily upon the horizon. And as equally heavy upon my heart.

This week, that goodbye was no longer off in the future. It was here!

Back in July, Ben asked me to make an apple pie before he left. 

While I have made some pies in the past, I am no expert. 

That title belongs to Dana Poff, our pastor's wife back in Ohio and, more importantly, my friend. She can whip out a pie as effortlessly as a fish swims downstream. Perfectly formed crusts and sweet delectable fillings have pleased the palates of many.

I am not Dana. But I love my son, so made a pie, I did.

Ready made crusts are not an option. Crisco is not readily available, either, so a recipe using butter is required. I love all the counter space in our new apartment. I had plenty of room to roll out the crusts.

While I worked on the crust, Carl pitched in preparing the apples. Apple pie is his favorite. 

I think he developed this favoritism while consuming his mother's yummy apple pies.

My crust never looks pretty. I know practice makes perfect, and while the family would like me to practice more often, I think my waist would greatly suffer.

While not perfect, it was delicious and very satisfying.

It was the best way I could think of to spend my last day before school  began. 

The first day of school was Ben's last day with us.

The effort was worth making a lasting memory!

And, yes, I was right. It was the hardest goodbye of the summer.