a recipe for me
“Do you have a plan for dinner tomorrow?” Andy asked me as we were cleaning up the kitchen, making coffee and getting ready to go upstairs to bed.
I looked at him. He knows I do not have a plan for dinner tomorrow, because I have told him that I am a mess. I am unraveling. I do not know what is wrong with me, but I most certainly know that I am not okay. Simple things, the things I love the most, like making dinner and writing blog posts, are not happening.
“I made up a recipe for round steak that I think you will like,” he said, ignoring the look. He is good at ignoring the look, which is why I am good at verbalizing exactly what I’m feeling.
“Really?” I asked, “You just created a recipe?”
He finished loading the dishwasher, put in the soap and pushed the buttons to start it. “No one ever knows how to make round steak,” he shrugged. “I think you’ll like this.”
I looked over the recipe. Andy pulled meat out of the freezer to thaw in the fridge and set the slow cooker on the counter. “Looks good,” I said, “I’ll do it in the morning so it will be ready for dinner.”
Andy squeezed my shoulder. “It’s going to be okay,” he said.
Andy is not one who is going to woo me with jewelry or surprise me with flowers. You will never find him running after me or offering a sappy “appreciation post” on social media. Even though the world demands love to be public and showy, I know that true love runs much deeper and quieter.
“I’m not sure what to do to make it better,” he said.
He didn’t tell me to keep it together or it is what it is or try not to worry. He gently woke me up the next morning, the coffee already brewing. “I thought you might want some extra time with your journal and scripture,” he said.
In a time when I am slogging through confusing emotions and sorting through thoughts that need to be banished from my mind, Andy knows it is the small things that matter most.
It’s a plan for dinner and helping to make the bed in the morning. It’s a squeeze of the shoulder and a kiss on the forehead. It’s pulling me close in the middle of the night and a fresh cup of coffee in the morning.
It’s a recipe for me that is about so much more than food.
I’m joining an open community of writers over at Sharing Our Stories: Magic in a Blog. If you write (or want to write) just for the magic of it, consider this your invitation to join us. #sosmagic
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