I love you, Mom.
You won’t be my last Valentine, but you will always be my first.
Valentine’s
Day.
You
either love it, or you hate it.
Growing
up, I was never the girl with a boyfriend on Valentine’s Day. In fact, the
first year I had a boyfriend on Valentine’s Day, I was 18. And that isn’t a
good example.
The
first year Jim and I were married, 1992, Valentine’s Day was a DISASTER.
There
have been good ones thrown in there every now and then, though. And I have met
friends with birthdays on V-Day, so I think of them and hope they have a great
birthday/Valentine’s Day.
However,
for those of us who can’t afford the gifts of jewelry, fine dining, $100/dozen
roses, and overpriced chocolate gifts, we do the best with what we have. We
make beautiful dinners at home with our kids and spouses, we laugh and watch
movies together, knowing these days won’t last forever.
Now
I’m not saying that those who give expensive gifts don’t do these things. What
I am saying is this: I’m glad my love language is not receiving gifts because
if it was, I would feel very unloved. And it wouldn’t be because my husband
wouldn’t buy me gifts because he would if we could afford it. But we can’t, and
we know it.
I
don’t feel unloved at all.
My
love language is acts of service. A great show of love to me is my husband
making dinner, changing my bandages over this last couple of weeks, and praying
over me.
While
I think those who receive gifts are not bragging or trying to hurt anyone by
talking about their gifts and showing pictures on Facebook or other social
media, I think about those who don’t have a significant other, or those who are
single parents, or those who are heartbroken. For those people, V-Day can just
be a reminder of what has never been found, or what has been lost.
In
all honesty, people should show their love more than one day a year anyway! That’s
what real love is. It isn’t a part in a play; it’s REAL LIFE.
When
Isaac hugged me last night before bed, we were joking around, and I said, “Okay,
repeat after me.”
Mom… You won’t
be my last Valentine, but you’ll always be my first.
He
laughed. But then he said it.
And
he smiled.