Every Saturday morning, one of my tasks is to wander to the local bakery and buy an almond croissant for my wife and I to have with our morning coffee. I had to go early because they usually sell out pretty quickly. There are other bakeries that always have some in stock. Not our local bakery. The croissants are just too nice to stay on the shelves.
The daughter of one of my friend’s – let’s call him Steve – works at the bakery and she used to save one for me in case I was late getting there (meaning late getting out of bed.)
When I was first diagnosed I didn’t mention it to many people – one or two at most. I wasn’t hiding the fact; I was just a bit shell-shocked to mention it and too busy with appointments and the like to actually see anyone. Still, word went around. I had people coming to visit, some unsure if they were interrupting or getting in the way. They weren’t. It was good to have visitors.
One of my visitors was Steve. It was Saturday morning and he brought along an almond croissant.
It was one of the best tasting croissants I have ever had.
