A Story for the Day of Hearts

I come by my love of Valentine's Day from my mother. This was always one of her favorite days. There were Valentine cupcakes and many hours spent choosing just the right box of Valentines to send to my class at school. My mother gave me a gift every year, and I am sure she enjoyed picking out a scarf or earrings that she thought I would like. It's not surprising that I think a lot about my mother on Valentine's Day.

Despite my love of the holiday I have few memories of Valentine's celebrations as an adult. There is only one that stands out. I know exactly where I was on February 14, 1986. My mother had just had open heart surgery and I spent a long week in the Intensive Care Waiting Room at St. Francis Hospital in Hartford. Despite the surgeon's great skill the surgery had not gone well and it was a difficult week. And yet, as difficult as the week was, as well as the weeks that followed, the thought of that Valentine's Day has so many positive memories. The care my mother received was extraordinary. I especially remember Jackie, who was "her" nurse in ICU. My mother and I were both surrounded in love by friends and family.

It certainly wasn't the way I would choose to spend Valentine's Day. But that snowy day in February, twenty-five years ago was a day of love, not flowery or sentimental, but caring and kind and deep. Through the years I have been so blessed by moments of love. On this Valentine's Day I say thank you for many acts of love and kindness across the decades and the miles. Happy Valentine's Day!