We spend too much time pushing this notion of romantic love, particularly on Valentine’s Day.
We buy in, purchase tokens of love, and miss the point. When the candles burn down, the flowers die and the chocolate is all gone, what’s left? Well, besides credit card receipts, candy wrappers and petals on the dining room table.
It had better be true love. The only way to gift-wrap that is with authenticity.
While I used to shun Valentine’s Day as nothing more than a brilliant marketing strategy, I’ve had a change of heart. The older I get, the more I realize that anything that celebrates love is a good thing. Life moves too fast. We work too much. We don’t play enough.
Even the strongest relationships are vulnerable when the money gets tight, the workloads get heavy and the fridge calendar is a mess of commitments that you can’t even remember agreeing to.
You had better hope in the dark times, when the kids are sick, the dryer breaks and the dog throws up on your comforter, that love remains the tie that binds.
So, go ahead and order the flowers, make the reservations, buy the chocolates, maybe the lingerie, whatever floats your boat. If love is in the air, breathe it in deep and exhale very slowly.
The Carpenter married a writer, so unfortunately that means two things: first, I can’t afford to buy him a gift. Second, I have this forum to declare my undying love for him so that he can be totally embarrassed when he enters the hockey arena tomorrow morning. Perfect, right?
So here it goes:
Dear Carpenter, thank you for wearing a tool belt, for coming home looking like a hot mess of construction dirt and for carrying a waft of form oil and gasoline on your clothes. This works for me. And thank you for making flirty advances at me even when I’m in my saggy fat pants, an ill-fitted hoodie and have my unwashed hair in a ponytail. This also works for me.
I love the way you love our children, even when they don’t love your rules. One day they will appreciate you. Our daughter will choose a good man, because you’ve taught her what a good man is, and our son will be a good man, because he’s learned from the best. That alone is reason enough to adore you.
Week after week, I share our personal life with strangers in this column and you never edit a single word. You always encourage me to be exactly who I am. “Just write from the heart, Kel.” And so I do. You are my muse.
For all the times you had the chip dip ready, because you just knew I needed it, thank you.
It hasn’t always been an easy road, and I am learning to accept it never will be. Goodness knows you refuse to stop and ask for directions and I can’t read a map, much less fold it, but I can’t think of a better co-pilot for this journey. Win or lose, peaks and valleys, debt and credit, we are lost together.
For reasons I will never understand, you love me; but I know exactly why I love you. Happy Valentine’s Day, Carpenter.