Exactly 30 years ago on February 14, my hubby bent down on one knee near the glowing lights of The Rotunda and asked me to marry him.
This, after he’d said many times in the previous months that he would NEVER pick an obvious day, like Valentine’s Day or my birthday, to propose. He truly surprised me that cold February night. I also got a dozen roses to commemorate the day.
Several decades later, I still love that wonderful guy who proposed on The Lawn. Even if he never gives me flowers anymore. Things change, like…
Ten years ago, I had four children at home, and Valentine’s Day triggered The Great Writing of the Cards. Sometimes I, in a fever dream inspired by Pinterest, dreamed of making handmade Valentines. My creative side loved the idea! But here’s the thing. Four children x 24 classmates = a lot of red paper to cut. So, instead, I escorted my kids, aged 5 through 12, down the red and pink holiday aisle of Walmart to find the right cards to hand out at school. Everyone gravitated to something different. Foldable basketball hoops for the eldest. Princesses for the girl. Super heroes for the younger two. And we couldn’t forget to buy candy for all those cards.
Back at home, we spread out (and sometimes punched out) the cards on the kitchen table. Got out the class lists and pencils or pens. (Again, everyone wanted something different.) Chose a card for each classmate and wrote their name on the card (not too big!) While I appreciated the exercise in penmanship (Wait, do parents print up Valentine labels now? Or are Valentine greetings delivered via TikTok?), and the even more important lesson of being generous and inclusive with the giving of greetings, Valentine’s Day wore me out. Let’s not even discuss the aftermath of the classroom Valentine party. (I was the mom who always brought in a fruit tray.)
As my kids morphed into teens who would NOT DREAM of sending Valentines (except for my girl who made them for her friends), I shifted to a cookie baking tradition. I found a fabulous recipe that included a touch of almond extract and an awesome frosting. My giant heart shaped cookies always got rave reviews.
This year, I’m not sure how we will “do” Valentine’s Day. I do not expect, or even desire, roses or a romantic dinner. My youngest, the only child at home, and hubby will surely appreciate the giant heart sugar cookies, but shouldn’t there be something else?
It occurred to me while pondering this upcoming Hallmark holiday that “pink” (the ubiquitous color for Valentine’s Day) looks a lot like the word “kind.” Check out the letters in each word. Shuffle the i, n, k, and rotate the p 180 degrees. You get kind!
How about, instead of rolling our eyes every time we see pink and red in the next week, we take those cupids and hearts as a reminder to BE KIND. You don’t need a special “Valentine” to celebrate the holiday. You just need to bring kind-heartedness to the people around you.
You also need chocolate. Just a few pieces. I like Ghirardelli’s Dark Chocolate, caramel, and sea salt. What about you?
How do you plan to celebrate Valentine’s Day?
Happy Valentine’s Day! Remember, PINK=KIND!
Thanks for getting nerdy with me!
Loved this essay.
It does take effort to see the good that is all around us, at least it does for me. I have 20/20 vision when it comes to problems and evidently Superman-level hearing when it comes to what seems to me like a constant stream of negativity in the press. Actually, that is one reason I like your essays so much – you look for and find the good, the enjoyable, the positive. (How’s that for a lesson in the proper use of the substantive adjective!)
And I also love hearing of “old” love. When someone can speak of love that began at least 30 years ago, it is obvious that it is a love that has endured hardship (there are no marriages without hardship), and that means it is truly love, not temporary infatuation. I love the stories of those who did the hard work of love and from that working love built a home. (I am not chiding all those who have experienced divorce. Like war, divorce is always horrible, but sometimes necessary.) I feel for those who were unwilling to do the hard work of love and gave up too easily. They miss something wonderful that I have. I will be 68 shortly. I cannot imagine entering old age without my wife at my side – the one who has walked with me for over 45 of those years and has learned who I really am and loved me anyway. Recently I told here that it may not sound very romantic, but that our relationship reminds me of a pair of old shoes. They are well broken-in and comfortable. Much better than a pair of new and stiff shoes – or worse yet, going barefoot!
But my heart smiled when I read, “30 years ago…”
And, evidently, your husband was much better at romantic things in his youth than was I. No planning, no flowers, not even a ring at the time. We were sitting on my parents couch late one night and I said, “We’ve been talking about getting married. You want to?”
Oh well, it worked! LOL!