Valentine's Day has changed a lot since I was in elementary school. It was a day all the girls approached with great glee. A class art project was always to make and decorate our card mailboxes. I remember one year, a few of us got creative and made large heart-shaped mail bags to tape to our desks.
Little boys gave valentine cards only to the prettiest girls in the class and to each other, of course. I always hoped I'd get one from a boy, but alas...
By the time I was a mother with children in grade school, teachers sent home a list of names of everyone in the class so no one was excluded. I understood the pain of exclusion and appreciated their thoughtfulness.
In high school, my kids gave and received roses to each other. Red, of course, meant love. Pink said I like you. And white meant friendship. In my sons' senior years, they each carried home nearly a dozen red roses. I threatened to buy them each a chastity belt. Of course, my words fell on deaf macho ears.
Years later, as a divorced woman I detested the approach of Valentine's Day. Female co-workers bragged about what they were wearing to go out for dinner and wondered how many dozen of roses they'd get...or jewelry...or champagne.
I survived with Chinese take-out and a good romance book. Now I've got my snuggler and don't need all the extra trappings. For us, the feeling of Valentine's in year round. Our last words to each other before we fall asleep is always, "
Je t'aime."
Whether you celebrate or not, happy heart day this week. Hugs to you all.
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