he smiles so big he falls over, my son.
i used to fall over from a belly laugh. these days it’s all washing and folding and typing and cooking and using time wisely and falling over would be a waste of time, wouldn’t it?
but he assures me laughing would be the best use of it, my husband.
the one i woke up inside of, yesterday morning.
the one i fought with yesterday lunch.
the one i forgave minutes later.
the one who made me homemade fries and burgers for supper, the supper he always makes when we fight, the one that breaks the bread and squeezes the wine of our communion.
the one who saw me standing in my apron in the middle of the kitchen, in the middle of the afternoon, staring into the pantry trying to find in there some recipe for domestic living. i pulled out chocolate chips and butter and he pulled on his face that says, i’m the one that knows what’s best for you, and asked me not to bake him cookies.
but we have no baking.
“i want you to rest.”
isn’t the way to a man through his stomach and “are you sure?” i said shrugging out of apron.
he was sure, and i asked if it was okay if i painted and he said of course it was okay, as long as i wasn’t working and
the pantry door closed and paint cans opened and i smeared love on a canvas
his feet are long and white and he teaches me how to rest, this man who makes me burgers and drives me crazy and wakes up inside of me and forces me not to bake cookies
we’ve only been married 8 years. perhaps in another 20 i’ll have learned to fall over.
(heading to the mountains this week… will share photos and thoughts as i am able… can i tell you, how much your imperfect prose means to me? how much it means to see you commenting on each other’s pieces? this community, it’s the kind i’m sure God would fall over from, smiling about…)