Passing the tiny bathroom, I heard sobbing. Without hesitating, I opened the door to find Callie sitting on the tiled floor, arms wrapped around her k...ees, her face hidden.Something broke loose inside me; compassion, and surprising me, affection. The bathroom was very small. Nevertheless, I sat on the floor next to her and put an arm over her shoulders.“You’re not alone, Callie. I’m here and I’m staying for as long as it takes.”She melted, leaning against me. “It hurts so much,” she whispered.. A. now," she says hesitantly. "She's an optometrist, I think. Some kind of eye specialist. But when I wrote this song, she was just a little girl. And I still think of her as one whenever we perform it. Here it is: Kirsten!"Indeed, it is memories of her dearest and only fruit of her womb that fill her thoughts as she plays her own pianistic tribute to the restraint and beauty of Bill Evans who was such a great influence to Lynn in those early days in Peckham and, later, North London.Those were. More

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