My husband had beautiful green-brown hazel eyes. They were, other than his thick, wavy, auburn tinged brown hair, his best feature.

When he annoyed me (too many times to count), he’d look at me, eyes all innocent.

“Don’t give me those doggie eyes,” I’d say.  Then all the irritation and annoyance would disappear like a puff of smoke. (Of course there were times when his little ploy didn’t work—but that’s a different story.)

When we were first married, we lived with his widowed father whose loneliness was as real as the sky above and the ground below our feet. Living with my father-in-law meant that our lives were intertwined with the whole extended clan who lived all around us. Our first two years of marriage were played out on the family stage.

One night we had a huge argument in our bedroom, the only private place we had. I have no recollection of what the argument was about, but I do remember going to bed angry and resentful.

It was summer and I was on hiatus from my job as a teacher, but Dan had to go to work.

I don’t remember saying goodbye in the morning or if he kissed me before he left.

The day wore on, and with the perspective of time and a little distance, I began to mellow.  I knew that I wanted to make amends, but I wasn’t sure of how.  I could have called him at work (he was the boss, so it wasn’t a problem).  I could meet him at the door when he returned, and we could apologize.

Yes, there were several options all limited by the presence of Dan’s aunt and cousin who had stopped by to say hello to my father –in-law.

I was in the kitchen, getting dinner ready, when Dan unexpectedly appeared.

I looked at him, our eyes met, and suddenly I was engulfed in his teddy bear embrace.

His aunt and cousin both said “A-w-w…” at the same time.

There was no need for words—his eyes said it all.