I've mentioned before that I'm not exactly a fan of Valentine's Day. I can attribute some of my dislike of the holiday to the fact that I was married, briefly, many years ago and that I've been single ever since. It's not that I've been
alone ever since, but back when I was still thinking a relationship sounded like a good idea, I was notorious for picking the wrong guys -- the ones who wouldn't acknowledge Valentine's Day if their lives depended on it.
The other part of my intense dislike for the day stems from the fact that a couple of my most painful experiences happened around Valentine's Day -- both on February 13, as a matter of fact. They're so painful, it's difficult to talk about them, even though one happened 20 years ago, and the other 5.
My only good memories of Valentine's Day are from when I was a kid -- back when we spent a couple of days decorating an old shoe box, cutting a hole in the lid, addressing Valentines to the other kids in the class, and then opening the cards we got, making special note of the friends whose parents were cool enough to let them slip in a candy heart or (be still my heart) a sucker! More than anything, I loved making those Valentines for my mother -- the ones with the red construction paper and lacy paper doilies.
This year, I thought maybe I should revisit those good old memories and see if I could revive some kind of relationship with Valentine's Day by making my own Valentines. But that's all it was -- a thought. I happened to mention it to Daughter #2, and this afternoon a package arrived on my doorstep. Among other things, it contained colored paper, a variety of lacy paper doilies, ribbon, stickers, glue and glitter pens.
So guess what I'm going to be doing between now and February 14th! Yep, you guessed it. I'm going to be making Valentines!
_______________________________
Copyright © 2009 Sherry Lewis
