The Little Things

For all I know, my mother mixed a little Heinz 57 in with my bottles as a baby. I say that for the simple reason that I can't recall my first taste of the stuff, but I'm almost certain it was love, true love, right from the start. At least on my part.

It's steak sauce, so I, of course, put it on my steak as a kid and I have ever since, even though it offends my sons, both of whom believe a steak properly cooked needs no condiment. "You're covering up the taste of the meat," they argue. I smile and keep right on dipping each morsel in that savory sauce. Their steaks are plenty good, awesome, in fact, but Heinz 57 only enhances the flavor.

All my life, I've put it on my hot dogs and hamburgers, used it with roast beef and grilled chicken, and I'd rather have it than ketchup when it comes to fish, French fries, or hush puppies. I'm plumb happy if my vegetables get scooted over into the Heinz, and I'll usually use a roll to sop up any remaining after my plate is cleared.

I love the stuff!! How much? Enough that my mother tucked a bottle into her purse when we went to Hawaii, since she'd learned that restaurants there didn't have it. And here's one for you - I love dipping my original Chick-fil-A sandwich in it. Now that our youngest son is a Chick-fil-A operator, I've been pressing him to tell the folks at Corporate that they need to make Heinz 57 available in their restaurants. It would take Chick-fil-A to the next level, I'll guarantee you that!

It didn't take long in our romance for my beloved to discover my obsession. I'd like to think she found it adorable, just another fun quirk to my delightful personality. More likely, she thought I was a doofus. Regardless, she took the ring.

August 9 will mark 40 years of marriage for us. During that time, I've worked as a pastor and Regina has focused her energy and attention on managing our household, while also sometimes working part-time outside the home. That means she's done much more of the grocery shopping than I have. I've typically run in to grab a few items or to get something special we needed for a particular meal, but she's been the one who checked the freezer, refrigerator, and pantry, made the lists, and then went to the store.

I can honestly say that in our marriage together, I cannot recall a time when we ran out of Heinz 57. A very few times we've gotten down to one bottle in the refrigerator. Not often. Normally, my green-eyed beauty from Warner Robins has multiple bottles pre-positioned on our pantry shelf. Never have we reached the bottom of the last bottle.

Our world changed this year when Dr. Christina Mayville diagnosed my beloved with Alzheimer's. Regina no longer drives, and some responsibilties are shifting more to me. In just three short months, I managed to do something that Regina hadn't done in 40 years . . .

WE RAN OUT OF HEINZ 57!!

There's no more in the refrigerator. The pantry shelf is bare. That empty bottle pictured above is the last we have in the house.

We tend to think of love as being best expressed in grand gestures. The ring. The romantic getaway to an exotic location. The expensive gift, you know, like what we see on the commercials right before Christmas with the fancy jewelry or the shiny car. Big stuff. That's love, right?

Maybe. But, I'm convinced 40 years without running out of Heinz 57 is an even better picture of love. The thoughtfulness and care. Her attention to detail. Her willingness to put up with my idiosyncrasy - as cute and adorable as it is - and her desire to bring me joy. All that is love, and it's all poured into a bottle of steak sauce.

It really is the little things, isn't it?