I have been thinking so much lately about this little kitchen. This is where Eric and I cooked our first meal together. It’s where we celebrated our first Thanksgiving. It’s where we held hands and looked out at the hills more times than I can remember. I miss this little kitchen, and I miss how Eric used to walk through the door, drenched with rain, ready to warm up at the table. But mostly I feel grateful that we are still cooking together, still holding hands and gazing out the windows, and that every time he walks through the door, it still feels like a gift.
I love this post. You are both a gift to me.
Just as you are to me!
Many beautiful memories were made in that little kitchen. How about this one? Eric comes over for his second or third date with you, and YOUR MOTHER is there!!!!! When he got through that I knew he could get through anything!
Haha, yes, we were just remembering that story this weekend! The flying tomatoes! The broomstick! Good times, mommy, good times;) Love you!