November 22nd 2016
A couple days before Thanksgiving my Dear Hubsand arrives home clutching an array of fresh ingredients loose in his hands; cauliflower, carrots, I don’t know what else. Being that he is a chef -THE Chef- I asked him no more questions now than I would of Santa before Christmas. Next I watch him -still in his biking jacket- bring over some carrot tops and quietly offer them to the bunnies, who nibble delightedly, and I choke up a little.
Here is a 6’9″ man whose life obsession involves anything OR everything tasty OR delicious, yet for my sake has basically forsaken “rabbit” from his menu, but still lives and loves to *feed* people and creatures and things, even rabbits. (Somewhere I have video of him dropping a few granules of delight into the eagerly awaiting maw of a yak, I’m not kidding.)
I am verklempt at the reminder of what a kind man I have married.
And struck by one of my favorite poems by the Sufi Poet, Hafiz:
It is said that god is good. God is love.
Judging by my husband’s shoulder I am inclined to agree.