The days are hot here in Riverside, CA and I am late to this page. Summer has a schedule of its own, school or not. It invites a slowness that I can tumble into; falling into it like falling into clouds.
It’s hot and the a/c is my friend.
Behind me, my dog and grand-dog are lolling as if my sitting here at 9:30 in the morning is an invitation for them to nap rather than engage the noisy shenanigans they are usually up to; growling, barking, and running around in circles.
My energy is low, having just returned from a long road trip to Redwood City and I’m still recovering.
Upon rising this morning, I head for the pour-over pot. Rinsing the coffee grounds, I take them to the front yard and offer them to the plants as a morning boost. Returning to the kitchen counter, I see the photo of Dan and me and my heart gulps, as it does every time.
I see him, one arm around me and his other hand resting on the stove. Our history with these stoves floods into my consciousness while the photo captures the three of us; husband, wife and stove — 18,979 days ago.
…standing between past and future…
The photo tells a story of a simple man and his stove.
A stove where he could roast a hot dog and eat it with mustard. Beneath the photo is a story of how our love journey is marked by O’Keefe & Merritt stoves, beginning with the tiny one in our first home.
It records for history him leaving his hospital bed to see the stove and cook on it. He had not been up and around for a few days and it rather shocked us to see him at the stove.
Cooking.
Fourteen days later he died.
Yet, I rejoice in the ambush the photo accomplished this morning.
I rejoice in being reminded of the life we carved out together.
Grateful for our love over time—our love for these stoves and our love for one another.
As I move toward our wedding anniversary on July 4th, I accept the gulps my heart makes when seeing him.
