Dinner for Two

February 14
We returned home to Ithaca from New York City on Valentines day. Champagne, chocolate, roses, the indulgences around romance felt a million miles away. In New York we had a long week in the hospital with Colby. She was hooked up to an EEG, withdrawn from her medications and provoked to seizure. It is so hard to remember, to believe, that we are doing what is best for her. Our hearts feel bruised, and I don’t mean that very metaphorically, it is a real feeling.

We pulled in to the snow covered driveway at 7:00 p.m., and got the kids instantly fed with quesadillas, avocado and yogurt. They were asleep by 8:00. We unpacked the car, then thought about our own dinner. With no consideration towards romance or Valentines day, Craig happened to make one of his dinners for two. This is not only a labor saving device, putting dinner for both of us on one plate makes less dish washing later, but also an invitation to sit a little closer, be a little nearer each other at the table.

He placed two seared steaks with a medley of vegetable in between them on the plate. We poured some wine and lit the candles. Weary and tired we sat down and took a deep breath together. Home again, at the table, together. “Good job this week,” I said. “God, I am glad to be home,” he said. And we leaned over the plate, touched foreheads and felt the love and appreciation for each other pass between us. Eating our steak and vegetables and drinking wine, children asleep in bed, we did not talk much. We did not talk about shoveling the driveway or hoping for a night with no seizures or the hospital or the stack of bills. We sat together and gave each other all of our attention for this moment. This moment over our romantic shared plate, our dinner for two. And with each bite, each sip, each moment, I felt all the bruised corners of my heart repair. Happy Valentines Day.