i'm never going to make baked fish again.
i've made it twice in the past two months, and both nights ben called to say we should go ahead and eat without him; he'd be quite late. both nights it was important conversations that detained him. both times things that made me have to grasp onto hope and hold tight with both hands.
maddie detests baked fish. maybe i do, too. though, the baked fish nights have given me reason to remember that when one door closes i must not stand staring at it so long that i miss seeing another door open. and most often, even though the closing of one door is hard, the opening of the new door is something unimaginably wonderful.
i still don't think that baked fish will be on the menu any time soon . . .