It’s the husband’s turns, to make the breakfasts for his wife and children, filling their stomach and hearts with the warmth of the foods he’d made for them, as well as the love in their, hearts, translated…
No Expressions of My Love Through the Words, No Need for Epic, Through the Meals I’d Made, Seeping into the Daily Lives of My, Loved, Ones……….
In the winter mornings before light, the alarm sounded off on time, reminding me to get up and make the breakfasts for my kids.
like this…what he’s doing after he retired…photo from online
My body, that’s, still kept warm by the covers, still dreamed on, refusing to get up. But, my mind started, nagging, sunny side up on toasts, with a dab of ketchup, then, a cup of warm milk each for their breakfasts. As I’d come back to it, I’d found my self, out from the cover, putting that coat on, walking toward the, kitchen.
The golden egg sizzled in the frying pan, the whole wheat toast started, giving off the aromas in the toaster, as the milk was heated up to just the right temperature, I’d, lifted my head to look out the window, the sun was already, high up in the clouds, the city is now, awake.
This was the menu for this morning, on other days, sometimes, there’s the fried egg on onion pancake, sometimes, the sesame oil over the noodles, at other times, dumplings………anyways, I’d hoped, that my wife and children’s stomachs and hearts are warmed and fed before they rushed away for work.
As the foods had all been made and placed on the tables, they were coming down the stairs one by one, and, arrived at the breakfast table. Today, out of the ordinary, my daughter was the earliest, turned out, she had a badminton tournament in the afternoon, she’s getting into the game. I’d not struck up conversations about the game she’s to play later, nor told her, you will do well, just watched her as she’d eaten the breakfast. “How is it?”, I’d inquired. Still chewing, she’d smiled and said, “thanks for the breakfast!”
She and her older brother are setting out together now to catch the bus, I’d asked for a hug from her, and told her, “just have fun today!”, I really hope she’ll enjoying the game she played in the competition. Her older brother told her, “in the afternoon, I shall come to watch you play!”, she’d chuckled, then, the two of them, laughed and walked out together, carrying on in their, conversations.
illustration from UDN.com
Then, my wife rushed downstairs, she had to go immediately, otherwise, she will get stuck in morning traffic. “Heated up the milk for your latte on the stove, take the toast and the sunny side up on the way.” She saw that I’d fixed breakfasts already, she’d, stirred up her coffee. That tiny spoon swirled in the mug, making the chimes, there was, that unknown sense of healing to the sound, this was, the tiny gift I can give to her, being stuck, in the cracks of our, lives.
“I’m off, have fun with the pots and pans, and the dishes, honey!”, she’d switched back to her tempo, and, readied for a whole days of, work that’s busy. “No problem, I’m on it, careful on the road.”, I’d repeated these words like a line, making it into, a sort of a “secret code of love” between us.
After my wife leaves, the kitchen and the living room fell, silent. I’d made another serving of breakfast, made a cup of coffee, to reward myself, for getting up early for the family. As the aroma of the coffee got on my palate, the sun shone through the windows just right, passing the curtains, and, into the house. I’d, slowly, sipped at my coffee in the morning glow, recalled how in the past hour, this tiny kitchen had, helped me with my magic trick—the love is unspoken, no need to be an epic, it’d entered into my families’ day-to-day routines, through the breakfasts I’d prepared for them. Although, it wasn’t the work of a master chef, but, feeling the warmth of the stomach, in the coldness of the wind, the hearts will, get, warmed also, I’m sure, they can feel my love, and my support for them.
So, this is what you’re, doing, now that you’d, stepped down from your work post, you’d become, a home cook, waking up early, making those breakfasts with love for your children and your wife, and I’m sure, that they are, more than, appreciative of you for it.
The Ivory Tower of My Mind 