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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Oh that made me cry! YAY for ANDY. I am so glad he’s in your corner! I think we all are unraveling – at least that’s what I tell myself so I don’t feel so alone and I give myself some grace. Remember to give yourself some grace. From your writing – I know you are strong, kind, and thoughtful. You will make it through. I keep saying to myself if I completely unravel – I will knit myself back together again and make a new me! Humor and round steak go a long way.
I think we all have those moments when life gets to us and we don’t know what to do, say or how to act and definitely don’t know what’s wrong. Thankfully we have our hubbies and best friends to help us get thru these challenging times. Hang in there. Life has a way of turning around and then we wonder how that happened!
Yes, God knew exactly who you would need when He gave you and Andy to each other. Someone to cherish. I am glad you shared this sweet story of love.
Sometimes when knitting you have to unravel so you can try again and usually the piece is improved. Give yourself the grace you extend to others. There is nothing better than having a soulmate who is there for you and knows just what you need. Round steak dinner sounds pretty tasty.
Somehow you managed to wrap into words and a simple image the comfort and peace Andy gives to you–and you passed it along to us. I sure am glad I wrote today so I could slip over here and soak up your words right away. I am thinking about you.
This is such a beautiful picture of love. Sometimes what we need most is to know we’re not alone, and that someone understands us, at our core, even if they can’t fix the problem. I’m glad you two have each other.
I enjoyed your sweet story of you and Andy. It “tenderized” my heart. I bet that steak was great!
Joe
Love Sweet Love
Andy and Jim sound similar.
You, my friend, have a gift. You have a gift with words. You have a gift with recognizing the depth of love and the importance of a human who loves and understands you. You have a gift of sharing something so human it hurts.
Andy is right. It IS going to be okay. And you are also right. You have a recipe for living, and that is so much more important than food.
The other day I was with a group of woman talking about the ways we express love. It’s the small things, right thoughtful gestures when we need them the most, that manifest the love the strongest. Your slice is a perfect example of it. I wish there was something I could do or say to help you. Sending you a virtual hug from far away.