We sang while making dinner the other day.
And I missed you.
But it wasn’t the aching, lump in my throat missing you that I usually feel when a wave of missing you comes on….
It was just missing you, because I know you would have been singing right along with us and having a great time.
And we would have laughed at your falsetto.
It was almost a happy missing – if there can be such a thing.
Wishing you were here but knowing that you were.
And being happy that we were singing again.
And knowing that makes you happy.
Brad was a fantastic cook. He didn’t have a lot of time to cook, but we sure loved when he did. For birthday’s in our house you get to have your favorite dinner. That meant Brad was cooking for every birthday. (except his own…but I’m sure if he was honest he probably would have preferred to make that meal as well. )
I remember his first birthday after we were married. He was so cute – he requested an easy meal that we had often….and I still managed to mess it up. But he just said it was great and ate it anyway.
Brad and I would make Sunday dinner together. He was seriously the sexiest thing ever in his church shirt with the sleeves rolled up and his “manly” apron. (I would tease him about wearing an apron. He would point to the fighter pilot patches on it and declare it to be manly and ignore anything else I said.)
We would turn on some music, cook together and sing at the top of our lungs. (and if you knew Brad you know that means that the neighbors could probably hear him) Our kids would laugh at us and look at us like we were crazy, but soon they would be singing as well.
On regular days (when the sub par cook made the meal) he would always make a big deal about how great everything was and he was always so grateful for whatever effort I had gone too.
Those dinner memories make me happy. But they also make it hard for me to cook dinner now.
After we moved to Utah I don’t think I cooked dinner in my home for about 5 months. It was always something I did specifically for Brad. I just couldn’t bring myself to set the table and make dinner knowing he wouldn’t be coming home to eat. Every part of it made me miss my husband so much that I couldn’t breathe.
So I just didn’t do it.
It’s almost been 5 years and I still can’t say I like making dinner. It’s a lot of work for people who would rather have cold cereal 🙂 but I know it’s important for my kids and I to sit down together so I try to make myself do it more. And I’m trying to remember that just because I’m not making it for Brad, that doesn’t mean he’s not coming to dinner.
So singing while making dinner is kind of a big deal at our house.
It felt good to do that again.