I’ve never been a huge fan of Valentines Day. It just seems like a holiday that pops up out of nowhere and has no real purpose. If there is a Valentine Scrooge, I suppose I’m it. I admit the color scheme is nice and the heart motifs do brighten up otherwise drab store aisles, but it seems like we just finished up the gift-giving season and now here comes another that demands your full attention and wallet. And if you’re in a relationship, I suppose it could be fun, but I imagine it would be disappointing if you weren’t, and were just reminded of that fact when you didn’t get a card or flowers. Of course, I wouldn’t know that from experience—I’m just supposing. I think it would be what Charlie Brown must feel when he hurries to the mailbox, only to find it empty, with Lucy standing by to taunt him.
Admittedly, it was a favorite day in elementary school, when we got to decorate the brown paper lunch bag that was then taped to the end of the desk so classmates could drop cards in. Your name had to go at the top of the bag, as if classmates wouldn’t know who you were after spending five months in the same classroom. And because there were two “Lynns”, we even had to differentiate there. Lynn Billings was Lynn B and I was Lynn C. Sort of like Thing One and Thing Two.
We were under strict orders not to forget anyone, so the night before was spent in excruciating labor at the kitchen table trying to select just the right valentine to let that special someone know in code that THIS was a very special valentine meant especially for him. Kris Rayburn usually got that one, while Mark Brown had to make do with the plain, noncommittal, Be My Valentine card, which everybody knew meant absolutely nothing. That card was just checking off the to-do list. And it was a good thing that I never committed to Mark Brown, as shortly thereafter he snatched the class goldfish out of the bowl and bit it in two. That was Mark’s last day at Kilby Elementary. Kris went on to become a plastic surgeon in Palm Beach. Looking back, I think I should have spent more time on his cards.
And it was a happy day when I finally figured out that if you fold the pink construction paper in half and then draw the heart hump on one half and cut it out, you could open it up to a perfectly proportioned heart. Write “I Love You” in the middle, glue lace around the edge and voila, you have the perfect valentine for your mom and dad. Speaking of which, dads should never forget daughters on Valentines Day. Mine never did. He always brought home a little red heart-shaped box of mixed chocolates for me. I could count on it. And daughters really need to count on dads.
By the time my daughters got to elementary school, the ante had been upped. I think it’s a racket, but days before the 14th, parents were given the opportunity to order bouquets of helium balloons tethered to stuffed bears which would be ostentatiously delivered to the object of your affection in his or her classroom on Valentines Day. All of the friends and classmates would take note and be envious, unless of course they, too, received a balloon bouquet. Hence the problem. You had to be on your toes not to let the pre-order date get by you, and then there was the issue of how many balloons to buy. And I always felt bad for those kids whose parents either let the date slip or just couldn’t afford to make the effort. Another reason I’m not too fond of the holiday.
One thing I do like about Valentines Day is that it serves as a symbolic bridge between winter and spring. It’s bright and happy and red. And right after that you can count on buttercups and longer days and softer earth, and purple barefoot flowers. For those who might not know about barefoot flowers, they are the tiny multi-petaled lilac blooms that pop up in yards during March and April, after which time it’s perfectly alright to go barefoot. The door opens, and spring steps in. But you have to pass Valentines Day first.
So even if Kris Rayburn has moved on without me, I’m OK. And even if the day passes by like any other, I still feel pretty special. I may not be the holiday’s biggest fan, but I do know it’s nice to give love a chance and maybe a special day set aside just for that helps us all remember that. And I’m still checking the mailbox.
