I hate Valentine’s Day.
I used to really love it. That was back when my husband was alive. Now, it just reminds me that my sweetheart is gone.
Especially annoying was watching elderly couples dancing on the Today show this morning. It’s difficult enough to see folks at church who have been married 30-plus years holding hands. But to have 30 couples who have been married more than 50 years hugging, smooching, renewing vows and saying stuff like, “He still makes me laugh,” and “She’s the love of my life,” made me sick…with envy, that is.
Next month, Jack will have been dead 20 years. Even if I had remarried 19 years ago, I wouldn’t live long enough to reach the half-century mark.
He died about two weeks before our 26th wedding anniversary, which is March 21. Some really close college chums married on the 28th of March. Their 46th anniversary is coming up soon, and I’m really proud and happy for them and all the other couples who have made it that far. Like one of the Today hosts said, these couples know that when something within a marriage is broken, you don’t give up on the marriage. You fix it.
It’s not that I don’t have a good life. I have a handful of BFFs and lots of friends and acquaintances, a family that gets along well with each other, two adorable grandsons, horses to ride, llamas to look at and dogs that dance with delight when I return from a trip to the grocery store. My house is paid for, I have a decent income that allows me to buy stuff for my grands, help a few missionaries and travel.
Still, I get sad around Valentine’s Day. I turn aside when I see all the red, lacy hearts and embossed cards in the stores, and the constant ads about making dinner reservations early and which piece of jewelry to buy her. Funny, not many ads talk about what to buy HIM, do they?
I just wish I had a HIM to buy for.