Evolving Love Language

I used to take the days for granted when I would come home to a freshly cooked meal made by my husband. The first thing I remember him making for me were the most delicious crab cakes. Over the years, cooking was our love language. From homemade focaccia to boxed Mac and cheese, from braised verde pork to frozen pizza, and everything in between. Time and time again we’d cook for each other and lap up each other's compliments like the sauce in a good chicken marsala. We would go out to eat and critique each part of our meal and declare one a winner of the best dish; he was often the winner. We’d talk about how we would make it better, as if we both had some kind of formal training, like a restaurant chef. 

What was once a huge part of our relationship, has been forced to change and evolve as ALS has continued to take so much away. This is just a sliver of the proverbial pie of our relationship, but it’s an important one. There are constant reminders: every meal, every time I cook, every solo trip to the grocery store, every time I go out to eat without him. These moments are heavy with grief and longing. Our love language has had to change and shift throughout this diagnosis.

On the topic of food, I have exciting news to share! WECO Hospitality, a meal delivery service, chose us as winners of a $2,023 gift card to use on meals throughout the year! They sent out a request for nominations and three lovely Bedford friends nominated us. Below is the statement from WECO that they shared in their newsletter. 

—Rich + Leah. These parents of two young kids are navigating Rich’s ALS diagnosis. Writes her friend: “Leah is one of the most amazing people I've ever met. She is a beloved school nurse and leader in our community. In early 2019, Rich was diagnosed with ALS. Leah and her family are faced with so many challenges, and face them with such grace and determination to live their lives with as much joy as possible.”—

I am grateful for the kindness of the people who support us in whatever ways they can. Whether it’s mowing the lawn, plowing the driveway, dropping off cookies, sharing our story, donating to our GoFundMe, offering to help with the kids, texting to check in, dropping off dinner—it is all so very appreciated. It’s things like this that soften the blow of ALS; these little acts of kindness make all the difference and we would never be able to face this without the support. 

To shifting love languages and carrying on, one day at a time,

Leah