Valentine’s Day is almost over.
I meant to say how much I love the simple act of acknowledging the day.
I meant to talk about how it seems that when we were little, the cards we gave to our classmates were so much bigger than the cards my girls bring home today. How much I loved coming home with my white paper sack decorated with red construction paper hearts and glitter. How I sat on my bed, emptied the sack, pored through the valentines.
In my family we’ve started making our cards. For days the girls sit at the kitchen table and make valentines after school. Em crosses off the names on her classmate list that her teacher sends home with each kid.
This morning the first thing I heard from both my girls was, Mom, did you make our cards yet?
I made them each a card with a red valentine doily and pink cut-out hearts on construction-paper springs. Jim We all got chocolate-dipped strawberries.
I think it’s silly that Valentine’s Day should be about couples. I heard someone on the radio this morning say that on Saint Patrick’s Day, everyone is Irish, but on Saint Valentine’s Day, everyone can’t be a couple.
Valentine’s Day can be about a cut-out heart pasted onto a piece of paper. Making a phone call. Smiling, showing some love. To yourself, even.
Happy Valentine’s Day.
Good night.
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