Never Too Old

How many Valentine Days have I celebrated? Too many to count? Not really, as only a few have made a lasting mark in my memory.

There were the elementary school days when we walked up to a large, gaudy red and white box on the teacher's desk, and dropped in our small cards with funny little verses, one for each child in our class. (That was the teacher's rule, that no one was to be left out). I remember the excitement as we opened our cards, scrawled out with our name, dried, white paste surrounding the off-kilter heart, that said something like, "Will you be mine, valentine?"

In high school it got more personal. I waited for that special card that came in the mailbox that was really meant for me. Sometimes there were flowers or that large box of chocolates that came in a rather tacky, red and white box. The glamour grew as I shared those moments with my girl friends, giggling around our lockers or in the lunch room, sneaking peeks at the sender of those mushy notes. It was an introduction to the adult world of "love and romance".

As an adult I was the teacher, admonishing my elementary students to make a valentine for each child with that "no one left out" rule. The excitement in my classrooms from the other side of the desk never failed to delight me. It would only be too soon before the hurts would come from those who would not receive that special card from that special someone in their teen age life. During these years they would all get valentines from everyone, even though it was obvious that some of the sparkly girls received the more flashy cards.

Most of the February 14 days faded from my memory with the exception of our wedding in Malta early in February of 1997. That was a memorable day, but the day that is most special to me today is the one I had yesterday. I was under the weather. We did not go out as planned, but my husband made me soup, my comfort food when I am not up to my usual self. He also brought a small rose plant, sweet and blooming. The directions advise planting outside in the spring. I have not doubt that when I look at that rose bush I will be reminded of our love, but the sweetest of feelings is when I remember that wonderful aroma of the chicken-noodle soup drifting from the kitchen and the deep feelings stirring inside when he brought that bowl to me, steaming with love.

Whoever said that Valentine's day is for the young, has not known the quiet love that grows, at times unevenly, but steadily, with time, patience, forgiveness and acceptance.