YesÂterÂday, my wonÂderÂful husÂband gave me a beauÂtiÂful cusÂtom-creÂatÂed card, comÂplete with a romanÂtic poem he’d writÂten himÂself. Inside were tickÂets to an off-BroadÂway show (that he’d secretÂly worked with my assisÂtant to schedÂule). I sent him poetÂry, and tomorÂrow I’m makÂing him a carÂrot cake — his favorite. This mornÂing, our grandÂdaughÂter — proudÂly and with hugs — gave us a heart-studÂded card she and her mom had made for us.
From my point of view, ValenÂtine’s Day is simÂply an excuse to express your love a litÂtle more extravÂaÂgantÂly than usuÂal. I get that some peoÂple don’t like it — that they see it as pure, cynÂiÂcal marÂketÂing and comÂmerÂcialÂizaÂtion (US conÂsumers, after all, will have bought almost $500 MILLION worth of canÂdy this V‑day week). And I know there are thouÂsands of othÂer peoÂple who hate FebÂruÂary 14th because it highÂlights the lack of love in their life: they feel espeÂcialÂly loneÂly, unloved, and sad in stark conÂtrast to the mesÂsages of love and romance they see all around them.
But, as with all holÂiÂdays, it’s your choice — you can make ValenÂtine’s Day whatÂevÂer you want it to be: you can choose not to pay any attenÂtion to it at all; you can spend the whole day ragÂing against cruÂel fate and/or the capÂiÂtalÂist machine; or you can declare it a day of speÂcial care and lovÂingkindÂness to those who mean the most to you (includÂing yourself).
I vote for the third option. I intend to keep using ValenÂtine’s Day as an opporÂtuÂniÂty to do parÂticÂuÂlarÂly sweet and thoughtÂful things; to be just a litÂtle more affecÂtionÂate than usuÂal; to look a litÂtle more kindÂly on my felÂlow humans; to be espeÂcialÂly genÂtle with and supÂportÂive of myself.
Why not?
HapÂpy ValenÂtine’s Day.