I really don't like Valentine's Day - there were years that I downright hated it. My disdain was born many years ago and I recall the incident with the clarity of it being yesterday. In seventh grade we affectionately referred to our math teacher as Ms. Cockroach - yes, it was mean - but we were 7th graders (read: snarky lifestage) and she taught math. Frankly, she lived up to her nickname on February 14th of my 7th grade year. I received flowers at school, as was the popular custom at WJHS at the time. As I waited to be picked up from school, she exited the building and complimented my roses and asked who sent them. Now - this is a tricky situation any way you cut it and I understand it very differently now having been a teacher myself. My naïve self replied honestly, "My parents sent them to me," and I was really pleased! SHE, however, hurled a knife to my heart when she said..."Oh - I only ever got them from my parents too." I was crushed. And my 12 year old self couldn't properly process the fact that she was likely bitter about some past failed relationship or something - all I heard was that I wasn't 'worthy' of flowers from someone outside of my family on the day that your value felt determined by chocolate, balloons and flowers. To this day I can see her face and my junior high self still thinks of her as Ms. Cockroach. Thus began my dislike for Valentine's Day.
As years have passed I haven't grown any fonder of this 'holiday' and have resolved that it's actually a contrived experience created by Hallmark, Russell Stover and Victoria's Secret to boost the post-Christmas sales slump. There's so much pressure on this one day to create 'romance', make fancy dinner reservations and celebrate love - all of which seems to minimize what love really is. My picture of love looks like the time when Philip and I were dating and I was sick - he came to my apartment and we watched Life is Beautiful while I laid on the couch unworried about the fact I had on no makeup and my hair was a hot mess. It was then that I knew we were really on to something - I knew our relationship was on a good track because I could be the most honest version of my sick self and not feel embarrassed. Love looks like the nights Philip and I stayed up washing/changing sheets repeatedly and holding our children's heads as they battled stomach viruses. Love looks like my parents taking my emotional roller coaster in stride as I struggled with a move to a new town in college. Love looks like days spent doing yard work, having hard conversations, pushing through ugly times so that the good times are that much sweeter. Love looks like Philip making a pot of coffee every morning before I wake up because he knows I'm not a morning person and breakfast is my least favorite meal to prepare. Somehow love's complexity and the energy it requires is devalued by Valentine's Day; one day a year won't cut it in the real love department. It's certainly not always red, pink and flowers; sometimes it's ugly, messy and hard. Real love is a daily choice - having to be tended and nurtured. To focus only on the romance of it all is demeaning.
This year, we'll still wear red or pink and we'll send in classroom valentines and we'll still have a special homemade family dinner. But we'll be celebrating love in all its messiness and all the people in our lives who've stuck with us through think and thin. We'll buy flowers for no reason at all sometime in March and maybe chocolates in April and focus on tending the relationships that have brought us to where we are today. As for February 14th - I'll be looking forward to my morning coffee and the sight of our sweet children as they just wake up and the sweet good morning I hear first thing from Philip. It'll be just another in a string of days when we celebrate the roof over our heads, the food in our refrigerator and the laughs that sprinkle through our days - even in spite of the sometimes cross words or frustrated sighs. Here's to the everyday choice to meet each other where we are, celebrate that we're able to be our truest selves confident that we are accepted just the way we are. And I'll pray that our children know at least a few people in their lives as they grow that will create this safe space just for them. Until then, I pray they know that Philip and I are and always will be part of that safe space for them and each other - and we'll do all we can to make Valentine's Day the day that we celebrate acceptance, grace and gratitude.
