To begin with, I wanted to recall this last day, the 28th January, in numbers:
To make the last lunch service nasi lemak for today:
7 kgs of chicken
4 kgs of potatoes
1 kg of green beans
2 kg of curry paste
6 cans of coconut milk
2 heads of spring cabbage
4 cucumbers
600 g of ikan bilis
700 g of peanuts
10 tomatoes
5 carrots
40 cups of rice
We served 63 lunches in the space of 2 hours, averaging 1 lunch every 2 minutes.
Our shelves and display stands have been pretty sparse these last two days of trading.
Today, our last day, we sold:
83 books
6 gift items
18 sheets of wrapping paper
54 greeting cards
In total, we served 109 customers.
Over the last few days, we have received from our customers and well-wishers:
4 greeting cards
45 'thank you' and 'goodbye' messages on our notice board
4 boxes of chocolates
3 bouquets of flowers
There have been numerous 'thank you's' and 'goodbyes' received over the counter and via email, Facebook and Twitter -- too many to count.
And then, there are the things that numbers can't account for. The outpouring of love, warmth and well wishes we have received from customers, friends, fans, supporters, and our team members.
Truly, I would be lying if I didn't acknowledge that these last few days have been especially difficult and moving; not least because the W&T family we have come to know and love over the years is officially disbanding.
Last night, I said goodbye to our teammate Cui, who made W&T her last stop before she headed for the airport and home. She left me a card, which I read today. It brought me to tears, which was not helpful, as my tears sparked off my other teammate, Scarlet, down the same tearful path.
I hope Cui doesn't mind that I share this line from the message she left me:
"London was always like a giant airport transit lounge for me, until I wandered into the world of Woolfson & Tay."
And from Scarlet, in a card she gave Shivaun and I:
"W&T has been a beautiful journey. You created a space, a home away from home."
Ditto, ladies. The feeling is mutual.
Today, Melissa dropped by even though her shifts at W&T had officially ended. (If you haven't yet read her beautiful account of some of her memories at W&T, you can read it here: "I am Wearing a Pair of Black Shorts.") She had lunch, and when she could stay no longer, she left. On her way out, she gave each of us, her team members, a big bear hug, almost as if it were the last time. I know how she feels, how they all feel.
Sure, we will be back again -- altogether at W&T -- to tear down the place next week. After that, we will no doubt meet and have lunches, and dinners, and coffees, and chats in the future. But tonight, when we turned off the lights, set the alarm and locked the doors, something changed. The world of Woolfson & Tay has come officially to an end. It has ceased to exist. What remains, evidenced by bare shelves and the deafening echo of silence in an empty store, is only a husk. The world we made, in which we lived, worked, played, laughed, sang, danced and cried in together, has ended. All that remains are the bittersweet residual memories we carry inside us. This W&T spirit, which I will always treasure, basks in the warmth and glow of caring friendship, mutual respect and genuine love. Thank you, dear friends. What you have given us in return is immeasurable. -- Fran