I had mighty and noble intentions to blog on Valentine’s Day. Not only because it’s a, well, hallmark holiday or because it seemed fitting, but because it was the fourth anniversary of my dad’s death. The day started and picked up speed, and before I knew it, it was bed time, I was exhausted, and I was void of words. So I didn’t blog.
But today is a new day and one that is not laden with to-do’s (or rather, one in which I can briefly ignore the growing to-do list).
If I’m honest with myself, I just wasn’t feeling Vday this year. I can’t remember if I felt this way last year (or the year before, or the year before that…), but with me being amidst a flare, and with the pain and exhaustion that comes with it, I just wasn’t feeling well enough to care this year. Then there was the fact that Vday fell on a Tuesday (a teaching day), we had an appointment to file our taxes after work, and I was remembering the aftermath of my dad’s death four years go. That doesn’t exactly spell out romance.
Still, my son was excited and he kept counting down until Vday. The night before, my husband helped him fill out Vday Transformer cards and pack small, pink, white and silver wrapped chocolate nuggets for his classmates. For us, he wrote his name and learned how to draw hearts–something he was extremely proud of!–and kept giggling as we had him write and draw on the other’s card. It made me smile. We had also bought him a small token, a “Green Power” (translated: Green Lantern) blanket. And even though the cards and chocolates didn’t quite work out (another post for another day, I guess), he still had a sweet day.
Today, when my husband picked up our son (L) from school, the kids were resting on the carpet. L was lying next to one of the little girls he likes (they’re all 4/5). According to the teacher, L was caressing her face and they were saying to each other: “From my heart to yours.” It’s one of those moments (for all moms, I think) that is both endearing and frightening as I get a flash to his future, teenage self when he falls in love for the first time (and, conversely, when he gets his heart broken for the first time). The sweetness of that gesture, though, full of innocence, had his teacher and us saying, “Awwwww.” It reminded me of how sweet and caring and loving my son is, traits that I absolutely love. He’s full of hugs and I-love-you’s and sweet kisses–and I hope he never changes.
Alexandra Alessandri 