Love, baby!

That sounds a bit Austin Powers, doesn’t it?Valentine’s Day is my birthday.  And I will grant that being born on the 14th of February does delight me.  But Valentine’s Day is about love.  All sorts of love:  that’s why there are cards for nephews and sisters and cousins and grandchildren and friends.  Because to limit love to romance, even on Valentine’s Day, is not only silly, it’s simply not the reality.  Think of all the people you love.  Really, truly, deeply love.  Are you dating or married to all of them?  I didn’t think so.

When I was in my twenties and thirties, I more often than not lacked a sweetheart on Valentine’s Day.  But that did not deter me.  In fact, instead of Christmas cards, I sent out elaborate, hand-made valentines.  One year I chose a specific Bob Dylan song lyric for each person.  Another year, there was glue, glitter and feathers.  And yet another year, it was a phase of the moon (waxing, full, waning, dark) that wished you a love-filled year.  Fifty of those suckers were splayed across my kitchen table in various stages of ink, colored pencils, and to-be-addressed envelopes, and I loved every minute of it.

So consider telling someone or everyone who is dear to you that you want to be their valentine this year.  Make a card for your co-worker.  Send flowers to your friend’s parents.  Bake cookies for that sweet neighbor who shovels your walk.  Toast your best friend with a flute of champagne.  Buy the car behind you in the drive-through a coffee.  Bring back that delicious excitement of being in the first grade, when you gave a valentine to everyone in your class, and then came home with a whole folder of your very own valentines.

Cynics will tell you that Valentine’s Day is for chumps, that it was created by the greeting card companies to make a buck, that the chocolate and jewelry industries couldn’t wait to jump on the bandwagon, that it is designed to make single people feel worthless.

Don’t believe any of it.  Love is bigger than that.

Happy, happy Valentine’s Day!