I woke this morning thinking about Valentine’s Day. I used to hate it. My hate had its roots in grade school. When I was in grade school, Valentine’s Day could be hurtful. We’d each decorate a shoebox and put a slot in it for valentines. Then for a few days the valentines would go into the box anonymously. I was fairly popular at school, but I dreaded opening my box.
This was before the rule that you gave everyone a valentine card. In MY DAY you just gave valentines to your friends. You didn’t have to give any at all. These valentines meant something! I always hoped for a lot of valentines. I never got that many. Maybe a few from my close friends. Maybe one or two that said something like “Hello Valentine. You’re the ugliest girl in class. Stay away from me.” There was always someone who got a fancy valentine or two instead of those little packaged valentines. I guess you could say Valentine’s Day was a little hard on my ego. Believe me, there were no ugly girls in my class.
So, grow me up and give me boyfriends. Did a boyfriend ever give me a valentine or a box of candy? Not that I can remember. In my teens you read a lot about such things, but most of the girls I knew didn’t get gifts from their boyfriends. But I really wanted a fancy valentine from my boyfriend. But I didn’t get one. At least there were no insulting cards either.
Grow me up some more and see me marrying the love of my life. Look at those pictures I have with love in our eyes. And I did get a huge frilly box of chocolates for our first Valentine’s Day. There was a catch. My love had been in a bar the whole night playing pool and cards with the guys. When he was leaving, the woman who sold cigarettes told him he’d better buy a valentine for his wife if he wanted to get in the door. He woke me up with the big frilly heart-shaped box of chocolates and he was so drunk he told me how he came to buy them. We weren’t there yet.
Skip ahead a bit. We own a house and we’ve filled it with three daughters and lots of debt. I finally told the love of my life how I felt about Valentine’s Day. Everyone I knew was getting flowers and chocolates and all sorts of other things for Valentine’s Day, but not me. How did he think that made me feel? I hated Valentine’s Day. It left him speechless. After all, he worked hard to support us all. He loved us all. Wasn’t that enough? Should be, I told him, but I want at least a card for Valentine’s Day. Inspired, I told him, if you give me a mushy (really romantic) card I promise to believe every word of it.
I have a truly wonderful collection of mushy valentine cards he’s given me through the years. I’ve learned to speak up about my expectations. You see, I thought he should know these things without being told. I guess I thought he’d learned it in his mother’s womb. I was wrong. Valentine’s Day has been pretty good since I told him about my hopes and expectations.
This morning when I got up there was a mushy Valentine’s Day card on my plate and a small box of chocolates underneath it. The box is small, but the chocolates are very nice. I asked for a small box because I shouldn’t have them, but this year I just wanted them. I wanted chocolates and I wanted flowers. He’s going to get the flowers tomorrow when they’re not so pricey. Do I care? No, I love anticipating what he’s going to buy. We’re going out to dinner too.
Happy Valentine’s Day to you all.
Marilynne
