Love and tuna sandwiches
As I stand at my kitchen work-surface, I could not put more into these tuna sandwiches if I tried. I do not, of course, mean in the ‘fillings’ sense. You can always shove in an extra leaf or two of watercress or a smear of mustard. No, I refer to the care with which I am preparing them. And later today I will think about Him at the time I expect Him to eat them, and wonder if He is enjoying them.
I start with a thin layer of butter, which He loves. Spread to the very edges of the bread, so that no bite will be taken and miss its presence. I so love Him to have the things He loves.
Then a layer of flaked tuna, infused with drips of balsamic vinegar, wishes, hopes and dreams.
On the other slice of bread, laid open like a mirrored butterfly wing to ensure the pieces match to best effect, I spread mayonnaise. I apply the same precision to my spreading as I do when ironing His clothes or cleaning His shoes. I want everything to be perfect for Him. His comfort and happiness are my greatest priorities.
Finally, I add some thinly cut and halved slices of cucumber and press in a sprinkle of sweetcorn in the hope it won’t escape and risk mess on the table or a stain on His shirt sleeve.
When done, I remove the crusts. And nudge the carefully cut triangles into a piece of Tupperware that leaves just enough space around their edges for His fingers to pick them up in unspoilt pieces. He won’t notice, of course.
He is so near, yet feels so far. Only a few streets away. How love tugs at the strings of one’s heart! How I miss him when we are apart. How I yearn for his return at the end of the day and run to the window when I hear his footfall.
When we first laid close, naked, I could not imagine a fiercer love or stronger passion. Yet with the passing of years, our bond has grown. What smiles! What laughter! What quarrels! So many kisses exchanged, so many tears wiped away with the most delicate of caresses.
It is said that to love in truth, you must set your Love free. And so be it. My sweetest heart, the light of my life, my eldest son, has just started school. And here am I.
By Sophie S.
I start with a thin layer of butter, which He loves. Spread to the very edges of the bread, so that no bite will be taken and miss its presence. I so love Him to have the things He loves.
Then a layer of flaked tuna, infused with drips of balsamic vinegar, wishes, hopes and dreams.
On the other slice of bread, laid open like a mirrored butterfly wing to ensure the pieces match to best effect, I spread mayonnaise. I apply the same precision to my spreading as I do when ironing His clothes or cleaning His shoes. I want everything to be perfect for Him. His comfort and happiness are my greatest priorities.
Finally, I add some thinly cut and halved slices of cucumber and press in a sprinkle of sweetcorn in the hope it won’t escape and risk mess on the table or a stain on His shirt sleeve.
When done, I remove the crusts. And nudge the carefully cut triangles into a piece of Tupperware that leaves just enough space around their edges for His fingers to pick them up in unspoilt pieces. He won’t notice, of course.
He is so near, yet feels so far. Only a few streets away. How love tugs at the strings of one’s heart! How I miss him when we are apart. How I yearn for his return at the end of the day and run to the window when I hear his footfall.
When we first laid close, naked, I could not imagine a fiercer love or stronger passion. Yet with the passing of years, our bond has grown. What smiles! What laughter! What quarrels! So many kisses exchanged, so many tears wiped away with the most delicate of caresses.
It is said that to love in truth, you must set your Love free. And so be it. My sweetest heart, the light of my life, my eldest son, has just started school. And here am I.
By Sophie S.
Mother (all-consumingly). Writer (occasionally). Seeker of life’s path (enthusiastically). Wife (that too).
