Expressions of Love

He came home at a quarter to eight with a bag containing two slices of pizza. He hadn't eaten dinner and was hungry. As I took Angie upstairs for bedtime, he was pulling the first slice out of the bag, devouring its bottom third in one bite. Lost in the ritual of putting Angie to bed, it wasn't until I returned downstairs that I realized he had gone out to fix the dead patches of grass in the front lawn in the rapidly waning daylight.

I went out to chat, to see how the lawn was coming, to see how the car was faring, to bask in the presence of my husband. "There's a slice for you if you want it," he said. "Actually, half a slice," he revised, almost apologetically. "No, that's OK, it's all yours," I replied. As he finished raking dirt and grass seed together, I returned to the house to clean the kitchen. Absently, I noted the pizza on the table -- two slices, one with the bottom third missing.

It wasn't until much later that I perceived his offer of pizza for what it was, a profession of his love. Starving and tired, he was willing to part with a full quarter of his favorite meal on earth. My heart swells.