I still remember the "carvery" you took me to on our last real day together. You were so incredibly kind.
My hunch is you would prefer this one:
The little church, at midnight, in Pateley Bridge.
Often, indeed, my irrational chapters seem to me more true than the rational ones, because they contain more of the truth about remembering and reconstructing the past (which was, of course, a central subject of Primo Levi's). The sense that there are thicker and thicker layers of time between ourselves and the person we want to remember, that it is harder and harder to reach her -- this is one of the most poignant truths about any act of remembering, but one that biographers and histories exist to abolish. The more successful they are, the more they abolish it; which means (and not only here) that there may be more truth in failure.