Apparently there are people who actually hate Valentine’s Day. Too commercial, they say. I’ve never experienced it that way.
Maybe it’s because I still hold onto that wonderful feeling from childhood of sitting at the kitchen table next to my mother, swinging my legs beneath the too-big chair and sifting through colored construction paper in pinks and reds.
I can just hear that satisfying crunch of the craft scissors as I trimmed crisp white paper doilies into heart shapes. I still remember my love affair with the Elmer’s glue coating my fingertips and pink-red-silver glitter catching the light as I sprinkled it from a plastic tube.
As a tiny child, I wasn’t thinking about boys or romance on Valentine’s Day. Just beauty and hearts and love. Years later, I shared the same hand-made tradition with my own kids.
Plenty of people don’t have a special someone. But in my book, Valentine’s Day isn’t just for couples. And it isn’t about expensive gifts and meals.
Some may chose to express their love in those ways, but as far as I’m concerned, it’s all about the cards—and the affectionate notes I write on them.
No, my valentines aren’t made from scratch—and they aren’t even in the mail yet—but I’m feeling well enough to write them today, so at least the postmark will say February 14.
I savor the chance to take a few minutes to celebrate the love I feel for each person—not to mention the love they give back. I have a nice little pile of cards here for family and friends.
And let’s not forget Mo, with his tail-wagging, unconditional, and exuberant dog love. I’m celebrating him, too, and tossing verbal love notes his way along with the occasional dog cookie.
It occurs to me there’s one more person on the list: me.
I’m guessing others with chronic illness can relate; since becoming sick, I’m often sending myself messages like:
- You’re tiresome.
- You’re moody.
- You’re no fun anymore.
So today, I’m sending up a few love notes to myself. And I want to share them with you:
- You’re courageous.
- You have a big heart.
- Your wonderful traits may be eclipsed by Lyme disease sometimes, but the core of who you are is still there—and always will be.
Add a few notes of your own to the comments section below. Because this holiday is for everyone.
And I’d like to think it’s especially for those of us who need it most. Happy Valentine’s Day.