Who knew pushing a grocery cart (even an empty one) could be so taxing? And the clerk looked askance at me when I asked for each bag to be packed as lightly as possible. My purchases were literally weighed to make sure nothing was too heavy for me to lift.
But here's the good part - making soup is kind of the ultimate act of love, I think. A few Christmases ago, I came down with a wicked flu - high fever, chills, ick. My sister, a guest for the holiday, spent the entire day roasting a chicken and making soup. Hours and hours. And I still remember it as one of the greatest gifts I got that year. A warm bowl of homemade soup was just the thing I needed.
Now I am no soup goddess like my sister (who is known far and wide for her broths!), but I like to think the oodles of love on top of the noodles in this week's soup will be just the thing to tell my sweetie how much I appreciate his patient and gentle care over nearly three months. And maybe, if we're lucky, he will feel better, too.