Lately I've been more conscious of the way I can use food to show my love. I think Joe did feel loved, and we are both glad to have lots of naan left over. But because I was busy making flatbread, I didn't get to the playground with Marija, though she got out briefly in the morning and enjoyed a stroller ride in the afternoon. And there are a hundred other things I could have done but didn't, because I was busy cooking.
I realized it when Marija was born... I never reach the evening and think I have loved her enough. I may have loved her well, but I never stop loving because she could always use some more. So could my grandmother. So could Joe. So could the lonelier ladies at the nursing home.
I am thinking this is one of the problems of this world, the days that end before our loving is finished.
But all we can do this side of heaven is keep pressing on, praying for help along the way, yes?
If I were a real blogger, I'd have a picture of the naan here. Instead I'm off to bed. You will have to imagine them -- soft wheaty ovals with toasted brown spots, mmm.