Running Stitch

In college I wore the classic black clothes of mourning on Valentine’s day. I declared it stupid! So totally lame! And I would of course rather poked my eyes out then go out with a boy! on VALENTINE’S Day. Just declare me PA THE TIC.

I think when you are struggling to find yourself, to define yourself in your youth it is hard to accept that something as simple as flowers and a card would make you happy. In my youth I declared Valentine’s day a commercialized holiday! Made up to make those without partners feel bad! And unworthy! And somehow incomplete.

I don’t need a man to make me complete! I declared vehemently to whoever would listen. (Mostly other girls dressed in black)

The me of today. The mother of small boys and wife of one tall, dark and handsome man sees things differently. Sees things a little bit softer round the edges. The BLACK AND WHITE contrasts of youth have faded into greyish blurs that are gentler on the eyes.

The 22 year old me, laughed at the flowers The Man brought me our first Valentine’s day. HOW CLICHE!

The 33 year old me? Laughs at that child. In a loving and knowing way. I chuckle at her headstrong ways and admire her determination. I thank her for mellowing the heck out! And learning to enjoy the ride.

This mother of two small boys, still sees Valentine’s day as overly commercialized…much like everything else…if you let it be. But this older, wiser woman knows you can make things fit your life, you can make the holiday be about love. About sending cards and thoughts to family far away who we are thinking about. She sees you can take the day to be thankful that you have family to send Valentine’s too. Happy to have such an enthusiastic gluer of pink and red hearts.

And that a little boy who is just trying on the words “I love you” can be seen putting hearts and love together in his mind. The wheels are turning and he deposits this on my desk. A valentine’s snail for me.

My son who will turn Five on Thursday, was due on Valentine’s day. The day I used to scoff at has turned into a mini celebration of sorts for The Man and I. Going out to dinner and then a short walk in memory of the walking, and walking, and more walking! we did that night in 2004 as we tried to walk that little guy into our lives (four days too soon apparently).

This year The Man and I celebrated Valentine’s Day early. Mostly because we are lazy. We live in a small town and the thought of going out to dinner on the busiest going out to dinner night of the year was just overwhelming. But also because a holiday that I now find adorable, as my son cuts out hearts to deliver to his grandma next door, and is supposed to be about love, shouldn’t have to be on a schedule. Love never is.

We enjoyed our dinner tonight and each other, without the pressure of being to a restaurant on time to rush through our dinner so that the next couple could be rushed through theirs. I don’t need The Man to complete me. But together we complete us. We were here before the boys, the boys complete a different faction of us, the family us. I see things today more circular than I did when I was younger.

It only makes sense that as you get older you would get wiser (although I’ve heard it doesn’t always work this way *wink*). These days I don’t need to be seen out on a certain day of the year to feel loved. I don’t need flowers or presents.

These days love shows its face when I can grab a shower, or when a hand is placed on my shoulder to steer me away from an obstruction in the road. It is the hand that creeps through the dark to rest on my hand while we are driving along the roads we have driven along together for over 10 years now.

Sometimes it is a little voice from that back that says “I soo tired” or a valentine snail left on my computer.

Love is what you make of it.

I think I’ll make it into a quilt.