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Whether your soundtrack to Valentine’s Day is “Love Stinks” or “I’m Still in Love with You,” you can’t avoid the day, can you? Well, you can, but the cards, the candy, the TV commercials Jane Seymour's Open Hearts jewelry, and anything that’s red and forms the shape of a heart have been hard to ignore that last month. (Note that if your Valentine’s Day comprises “Muskrat Love” and edible underwear, I don’t want to hear about it!)
Each year, it becomes more apparent to me that there really shouldn’t be so much pressure on one day to contain all the love in the world when there are 364 other days that need just as much love, too. Don't get me wrong; I’m not a Valentine’s Day Grinch at all. This Valentine’s Day just reaffirmed my belief about love on the day and in general. And, that it is best sometimes when it takes the form of an unexpected surprise and unconditional words.
Earlier in the week, I received a box in the mail. (No, it was not the Zappos box that has been missing from my life for over a year now!) It was a small brown box from one of my friends. On it, it said, “Do not open until Valentine’s Day.” God, how I love a mystery, especially when it’s in my own life and does not involve CSI or Law & Order!
I emailed my friend, and I thanked her for my box, but I mentioned that the Impatient Voice and the Impulsive Voice in my head were doing their damndest to outtalk the Patient Voice. She told me that I could open it early if I wanted. But, the Patient Voice said, “Don’t you want a surprise on Valentine’s Day?” For once, Impatient and Impulsive said, “Well, we really think it would be fun to…, um, yes, we’ll wait.”
As it would happen, the Impatient and Impulsive Iz wandered by my desk yesterday afternoon and saw my box. She asked, “What’s this? Is it for me?” I told her that it was for me. Then she asked, “Why don’t you open it?” My Impatient and Impulsive voices said, “Yeah, why don’t you ope…no, tell her we are waiting until Sunday!”
I said to Iz, “I can’t. See, right here, it says not to open it until Valentine’s Day.” She appeared a bit disappointed, picked it up, shook it, and put it back down on my desk. She asked, “Can I help you open it tomorrow?” I told her she could.
She turned to leave but not before grabbing the box once more. She shook it once more and said, “I don’t think there’s anything in here!” She put in back down on my desk again. I said, “I’m sure there is.”
She said, “Maybe someone sent you nothing.” I was unsure if she really thought this or whether it was a clever plan to get me to open the box and say, “Look! There is something in here.” I said, “We’ll find out tomorrow, won’t we?” She gave me an “Okay, okay, okay, we’re not opening the box now. I get it!” look and walked off.
First thing this morning, before I was half awake and even had any coffee in my bloodstream, Iz came into my bedroom waving the box. “Mom, remember! We have to open this today!” Obviously, Iz’s “today” was RIGHT NOW, and my “today” was when I was vertical and my breath had just begun to reek of Green Mountain's eggnog coffee.
I made my way out of bed and to my desk as I said, “Let me get a pair of scissors.” Before I could get out the bedroom door, Iz said, “I’ve got it open.” And, I swear she has a Swiss Army knife that she whips out of her ear for occasions like this!
She started to unwrap the red tissue inside the box. Then she pulled out a black shirt. I sat down next to her as she unfolded it. She said, “Mommy, what’s that?” I started to laugh. I said, “It’s my heart!!!”
Iz picked up a red envelope. She said, “There’s a card.” She handed it to me, dropped the box and the shirt on the bed, and she ran off to find her next adventure. Obviously, the mystery was so over for her now.
I opened the big beautiful card and inside it read, “Wishing you a happy heart today and always.” In it, my friend had written a beautiful little note. Sometimes, especially lately, I feel like I have forgotten my heart in some ways; thank you, Brenda, for reminding me of the most important part of my heart and for knowing and loving me as you do. ♥
On the way back from driving Nathan to his pre-hockey game warm-up, Iz was unexpectedly quiet in the backseat.
Just after we drove over a speed bump, Iz exclaimed, “Hey!”
I braced myself for a driving complaint or an out-of-the-blue brain-numbing question like “Is it snowing in Saskatchewan now?”
Iz then said, “I love you.”
I said, “I love you, too.”
Iz said, “I love you even when you’re mad at me.”
I said, “I love you even when you’re mad at me, too.”
Iz said, “Good.”
Yeah. It’s all very good today and the other 364 days of the year, too. ♥
Whether your soundtrack to Valentine’s Day is “Love Stinks” or “I’m Still in Love with You,” you can’t avoid the day, can you? Well, you can, but the cards, the candy, the TV commercials Jane Seymour's Open Hearts jewelry, and anything that’s red and forms the shape of a heart have been hard to ignore that last month. (Note that if your Valentine’s Day comprises “Muskrat Love” and edible underwear, I don’t want to hear about it!)
Each year, it becomes more apparent to me that there really shouldn’t be so much pressure on one day to contain all the love in the world when there are 364 other days that need just as much love, too. Don't get me wrong; I’m not a Valentine’s Day Grinch at all. This Valentine’s Day just reaffirmed my belief about love on the day and in general. And, that it is best sometimes when it takes the form of an unexpected surprise and unconditional words.
Earlier in the week, I received a box in the mail. (No, it was not the Zappos box that has been missing from my life for over a year now!) It was a small brown box from one of my friends. On it, it said, “Do not open until Valentine’s Day.” God, how I love a mystery, especially when it’s in my own life and does not involve CSI or Law & Order!
I emailed my friend, and I thanked her for my box, but I mentioned that the Impatient Voice and the Impulsive Voice in my head were doing their damndest to outtalk the Patient Voice. She told me that I could open it early if I wanted. But, the Patient Voice said, “Don’t you want a surprise on Valentine’s Day?” For once, Impatient and Impulsive said, “Well, we really think it would be fun to…, um, yes, we’ll wait.”
As it would happen, the Impatient and Impulsive Iz wandered by my desk yesterday afternoon and saw my box. She asked, “What’s this? Is it for me?” I told her that it was for me. Then she asked, “Why don’t you open it?” My Impatient and Impulsive voices said, “Yeah, why don’t you ope…no, tell her we are waiting until Sunday!”
I said to Iz, “I can’t. See, right here, it says not to open it until Valentine’s Day.” She appeared a bit disappointed, picked it up, shook it, and put it back down on my desk. She asked, “Can I help you open it tomorrow?” I told her she could.
She turned to leave but not before grabbing the box once more. She shook it once more and said, “I don’t think there’s anything in here!” She put in back down on my desk again. I said, “I’m sure there is.”
She said, “Maybe someone sent you nothing.” I was unsure if she really thought this or whether it was a clever plan to get me to open the box and say, “Look! There is something in here.” I said, “We’ll find out tomorrow, won’t we?” She gave me an “Okay, okay, okay, we’re not opening the box now. I get it!” look and walked off.
First thing this morning, before I was half awake and even had any coffee in my bloodstream, Iz came into my bedroom waving the box. “Mom, remember! We have to open this today!” Obviously, Iz’s “today” was RIGHT NOW, and my “today” was when I was vertical and my breath had just begun to reek of Green Mountain's eggnog coffee.
I made my way out of bed and to my desk as I said, “Let me get a pair of scissors.” Before I could get out the bedroom door, Iz said, “I’ve got it open.” And, I swear she has a Swiss Army knife that she whips out of her ear for occasions like this!
She started to unwrap the red tissue inside the box. Then she pulled out a black shirt. I sat down next to her as she unfolded it. She said, “Mommy, what’s that?” I started to laugh. I said, “It’s my heart!!!”
Iz picked up a red envelope. She said, “There’s a card.” She handed it to me, dropped the box and the shirt on the bed, and she ran off to find her next adventure. Obviously, the mystery was so over for her now.
I opened the big beautiful card and inside it read, “Wishing you a happy heart today and always.” In it, my friend had written a beautiful little note. Sometimes, especially lately, I feel like I have forgotten my heart in some ways; thank you, Brenda, for reminding me of the most important part of my heart and for knowing and loving me as you do. ♥
On the way back from driving Nathan to his pre-hockey game warm-up, Iz was unexpectedly quiet in the backseat.
Just after we drove over a speed bump, Iz exclaimed, “Hey!”
I braced myself for a driving complaint or an out-of-the-blue brain-numbing question like “Is it snowing in Saskatchewan now?”
Iz then said, “I love you.”
I said, “I love you, too.”
Iz said, “I love you even when you’re mad at me.”
I said, “I love you even when you’re mad at me, too.”
Iz said, “Good.”
Yeah. It’s all very good today and the other 364 days of the year, too. ♥
Happy Valentine’s Day!
(Nathan's hands, circa Valentine's Day 1998)
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