Chirky

But I can't say that I don't love it.

Some mourn Valentine's Day, wear all black to protest it, or pray for contentment during the holiday. And I'm not just talking about single people - there are plenty of married folks whose relationship with their spouse has all but died, or worse, it has died. They make a half-hearted attempt (or none at all) at reconciliation, fearing their memories of the past and frightened of the future that they cannot control.

I am so thankful that I don't fall into that category. I am so thankful for a husband who reminds me each day that he loves me. He spontaneously brings me flowers, takes me on dates. He comforts me when I cry for no reason, and also when I have many reasons. When I fear that my history will repeat itself, he puts my heart to rest. He is my voice of reason, wisdom and rationale.

This morning I received an email from him that read, "Look in your bag. There's a silver envelope..." I dug through the mess of papers that loosely resembled being "organized," and found his valentine. My heart felt light as I opened it.

Then, at lunch, Roger surprised me by showing up at my office unexpectedly. He took me to a restaurant downtown that has special memories for us. When he met me for lunch, he was holding these:

You may now commence gagging.