When we first got married he made it clear there were certain foods that he only wanted me to make for him. If his siblings came over or his boys he said he wouldn't want me to give them any....his mother would be the only exception. Even though he loved my cooking he would critique everything, from not using a recipe or how dishes would vary in the way I made them from time to time. He would make comments about how he was more of the skilled one the scientist in the kitchen and I was just an artist that added flair. I was an actual scientist before he left me...so that kinda stung & he never cooked.

Yesterday, I made his favorite dessert something I never make unless it was specifically for him. And this time I added all the artistic flair I could muster. It made me sad as I cooked...I thought of all the times I slaved over it in the past, thinking of how he looked when he ate it, how happy he got when I made him enough of them to take for work and how he looked like a kid in Christmas morning when they were fresh out of the oven. I chased his happiness hoping he'd feel my love and love me a little more in return for all the effort. I didn't share my skill with anyone but him.

It's silly but I'm still a little down today even though the kids, and the in-laws devoured most of the cake and the muffins...still hurts but I took a step to stop limiting my abilities to just him. That may seem inconsequential but to me it was like serving my heart and my love to him on a plate.