Balloonacy: Why I Now Like Valentine’s Day

I didn’t always like Valentine’s Day.  Probably comes from spending the first 22 or so Valentine’s Days without a date.  (Before my mother lodges a protest in the comments section, let me acknowledge that she brought me home from the hospital when I was five days old, on Valentine’s Day.  But you know what I mean.)  

I was actually still alone on the 23rd one, but had just begun dating my now-wife, Amy.  I had gone to the law school bookstore and purchased two, count ‘em, TWO, Valentine’s cards for her.  Sure, we had only been dating for about six weeks, but it didn’t seem like too much.  Of course, I forgot to mail them until the 13th, ensuring that their arrival in St. Augustine would come long after Valentine’s Day.  Big deal.  I had always been pretty sure that Valentine’s Day was a greeting-card marketer’s creation – who really cared?

And then the box arrived.  It was the size of a large dorm-room refrigerator.  The UPS guy dropped it at the bottom of the stairs and I carried it up the three flights; thankfully, it was surprisingly light.  Marvin and John marveled at the box and it’s St. Augustine return address.

“What did you send?”
“A card.  Two, actually.”
“You are dead.”
“Yep.  Totally dead.”

The box’s weight was explained soon enough, as it was filled with mylar balloons, a couple of teddy bears, Valentine’s candy, and a card.  Not a store-bought card, however, but a piece of construction paper with writing interspersed with those candy hearts.   Lines like “I MISS YOU and CAN’T WAIT to be together because I LOVE YOU....” etc.  You get the point.

Yep, I’m dead.

That night on the phone (this was, of course, long before email, e-cards, texting or IMs), I tried to downplay the event.  “WellofcourseIsentyousomething!  That’s not what I’m saying.  I’m just saying that Hallmark or the chocolate people made up Valentine’s Day.  I call all the time, I write all the time, what’s the big deal about the 14th?”

No dice.

You’d think that I’d have gotten smarter over the years, but I continued to make the same argument every year.  Commercial holiday, blah blah blah.  And every year I’d grudgingly get something because I knew that I was getting a nice gift from her.  Not exactly The Gift of the Magi, but I was trying.  Kind of.

Until about five years ago when I was visiting with Keli McGregor, the President of the Colorado Rockies baseball club, who had once worked for the legendary University of Arkansas football coach, Frank Broyles.  One of the most important things he learned from his years with Coach Broyles, he said, was learning to make every occasion with his wife a special occasion.  “Life passes too quickly,” Coach Broyles had said, “to not find every reason to celebrate each other.”

And then it finally dawned on me.  Valentine’s was important because it was important to her.  For whatever reason, she had come to associate being alone on the 14th or a quiet evening or no gift with being unloved.  She certainly wanted – and came to expect – the flowers or notes “just because” at other times during the year, but for her, Valentine’s had meaning on its own.  I should have figured that earlier, given the years in college that she had spent working at “Balloonacy,” a florist/balloon shop, watching countless others send sweet nothings to their significant others.

And that was fine – Valentine’s is another reason to celebrate the miracle that she was willing to spend the remainder of her life with me.  Sometimes my “principled” stances are less helpful than you might think.

The following Valentine’s Day I was between jobs and we were slashing expenses.  She pulled back the covers to find a jewelry box – I had gotten her small earrings.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!”

 She looked up at me, puzzled and chagrined.  “It’s a stupid, commercial holiday.  I didn’t get you anything – I thought we had moved on.”

Not my finest moment.  I had bludgeoned the joy of the holiday – a holiday that is yet another reason to celebrate, even if my suspicions of its commercial origins were correct.

We’ve finally settled into a middle ground.  We exchange gifts and cards and have a nice dinner – sometimes cooked at home by me – to celebrate each other, and to show our girls a positive role model.  We do so without emphasizing it too much, but by acknowledging that any day is a good day to celebration our relationship.

Even Valentine’s Day.