My Valentine

I’ll be so glad to have all of the Valentine’s Day hoopla behind us.  I mean, really…do people seriously get diamonds just because the calendar says "February 14th"?  I have to wonder what the wedding anniversary’s are like for these people. 

All week, the local morning show has been broadcasting people’s "most romantic Valentine’s Day stories."  Perhaps I am just jealous, but the superciliousness of it all makes me sick.  Tom and I were never big on the holiday or the extra effort of "trying" to be romantic.

We did observe Valentine’s Day to some extent but it wasn’t in the super romantic sense.  That was just awkward because it wasn’t either of our nature.  Generally, Tom and the kids would come home from the store with a bouquet of flowers for me.  They would always be from them.   Of course, I knew who they were really from.  They loved to steal his thunder.

I remember waking up in the morning of Valentine’s Day to find a sort of smirk on Tom’s face.  It’s the sort of look that says, "It’s Valentine’s Day; doesn’t that mean that we need to consummate our marriage again?"  In return, I would laugh and ask why this day would be any different than any other.  This was about the point when one of the children would come running in with their Valentines for us…  *smile*   Didn’t I say that they liked to steal his thunder?  …and Tom would kick himself for not locking the door.

The tables are turned this year, as Tom is now the one who steals the thunder.  He was all that I thought of as I prepared a special dinner of barbecued steak, sourdough bread, and zucchini with cheese melted on top.  I kept my thoughts to myself but I would imagine that they were aware of his memory anyhow.  The meal which I prepared was one that Tom of prepared for us on special occasions such as the last day of final exams, winning a baseball game, or Valentine’s Day.  I also lit a candle – not for romance, but in memory of the love of my life (aka "my Valentine").