So, in the mean time, I might as well write about love. Valentine's day has always been one of my favorite holidays.
Actually, that is a lie.
When I was a child it was one of my favorite holidays. I loved eating chocolates and cupcakes with pink frosting. I loved exchanging valentine cards at school. It was my Grandma's birthday and every year we would eat a heart shaped cake to celebrate.
Valentine's day smelled like heavenly confections and was the perfect day for girls who love pink, purple or red construction paper hearts trimmed in lace doilies.
Then, the teen years hit and I felt exactly like Charlie Brown.
Luckily, it was still my Grandma's birthday so there was cake. Cake and ice cream to numb the stark reality that romance was a figment of my imagination; a largely one sided affair.
Fast forward to my early thirties.
I am a newly single mom working at an apartment community. My morning task is to collect cigarette butts and fast food bags from the parking lot. I weigh, at that time, 97 lbs. (I had no idea how to obtain food stamps). I dream of one day writing a book or opening my own garden center. I plan to go back to college and finish my degree. I start to hear my own thoughts in my head again. It's a beautiful awakening. I vow never to let any man share my room or my life again. But while I'm picking the trash and putting it in the plastic blue bucket, some guy sitting in his car sees me. He hears a voice inside his head that says,
"there goes your wife"
He shakes his head and thinks, "that was weird" and goes back to his morning routine.
|Richard and Emily make sure I don't take life too seriously.|
|He's thoughtful and compassionate. And I love those lips.|
|He's a teacher and a guide, his son's best friend and hero.|
|When I'm old, his hand is the one I want to be holding.|
I hope your Valentine's day is full of love, or at least cake and ice cream.