Since Valentine’s Day is approaching I have been reflecting on love and what it means to me. When I was a little girl, my sisters and I used to make our valentines with remnants of material from my mother’s sewing box. They were embellished with lace doilies, paper hearts, and a lot of Elmer’s glue and gold glitter. Whoever said that All that glitters, isn’t gold obviously never saw one of my homemade valentines…Unfortunately, back then I didn’t appreciate the true artistry of these creations either. I wanted what everyone else had, and longed to buy those tiny cute commercial valentines that my friends passed out.
Growing up in a family with seven children, most of the gifts we gave and received were homemade, and that included Valentines. If we wanted to participate in this annual celebration of love, then we had to use our ingenuity. My mother is a talented and gifted artist, and she encouraged us to express ourselves in all sorts of creative endeavors. She had the most wonderful supply of materials that we could use and some of the Valentines we made were truly magnificent. I used to love going to her studio because it was filled with paints and brushes along with bottles of glue, varnish and paper-mache. She had special drawers that were filled with ribbons, buttons, flowers, wrapping paper and knickknacks that we could use to create whatever we wanted.
Today I have my own art drawers that are filled with treasures I use to create cards and mementos. This year, as I was gathering my supplies to make valentines, I stopped to look at some of the projects I saved from my childhood. I was impressed with some of the valentines that were pasted on the yellowed pages of my scrapbook and I felt a surge of appreciation for my mother’s efforts to help us be creative. I did cringe at some of the forced rhyme and dramatic prose, but I could see that each valentine had its own style and flair. Each one was a true expression of our individual personality. All of the valentines I made as a child were elaborate and laden with glitter, gold, and different colored jewels. I laughed when I realized that not much has changed, I’m still drawn to all things royal and magical, particularly if they sparkle and shine.
This idea of individual self- expression was something my mother stressed to us over the years. She wanted us to be unique and not follow the crowd. Of course I didn’t appreciate this idea as a child and I craved those cute store-bought valentines that everyone else got to exchange. I could not see the beauty of our valentines or that they were such an expression of what was inside of us, which is ultimately what Valentines Day is all about.
My mother’s insistence that we make all of our valentines was not entirely an exercise in individuality. It was in fact, a cost saving measure. There was simply no way my mother was going to buy enough valentines for seven children to pass out to their schoolmates. She knew that most of them would be thrown away by some other mother trying to de-clutter, and that it would require dogged determination to get us to put our favorite valentines into our scrapbook.
Preserving moments in our scrapbook was another idea she instilled in all of us. We grew up knowing how important it was to preserve the memories we collect and store them in a special place inside of us. My mother had a box for every holiday that was filled with decorations and she saved many of the things we made. Her Valentine Box was the one that I loved the most. It was filled with shiny red valentine plates, pink hearts made out of felt, and a fabulous pink and red tablecloth that my mother made and covered with hot-pink fluffy fur. There was a gold tin filled with Valentine poems, party favors, and all sorts of trinkets that sparkled and gleamed with red foil and white fur.
I don’t think I ever equated Valentines Day with romantic love as a child. It was just a day to tell every one in your life that you loved and appreciated them for the unique relationship that you had with them. Even today I resist the notion that you have to have one special valentine. I think there are many different forms of love, and all sorts of people to appreciate in your life. While I certainly love my boyfriend, my family and all of my friends, I also think Valentine’s Day is day to celebrate all the people that I love and am grateful for in my life.
I love my postman, my insurance agent and the guy who cuts my lawn. I love the mechanic who works on my car and the city employees who keep the utilities hooked up and running to my house. I love my neighbor who decided to trim my rose bushes for me because she wanted my roses to be gorgeous this summer (and knew I would never get around to it). I love the young girl who gets my tea for me when I write at Panera Bread, before I even ask. I love my real estate agent who became my good friend, even after I bought a house that was For Sale Buy Owner, and he did not get a commission. I love my mortgage broker who helped me refinance my house, and the credit card companies who think I’m worthy of such good credit. I love the woman at the bank who smiles at me as if I have deposited a million dollars even when I deposit a check for fifty dollars. I definitely love the clerk at the supermarket, who dove all over my car trying to remove the lizard that had climbed in, while I stood back immobilized and squealing. I love the woman at the jewelry store who fixed my favorite gold bracelet. I love the guy at the smoothie shop who remembers not to put banana in my smoothie without me saying a word. I love my trash-men who take away everything I want to get rid in my life and do it twice a week. I love the maintenance men who work in the park near my house and keep the roses blooming and put up with all those honking ducks.
The list of people I love and appreciate goes on and on and on………While I don’t make a valentine every year for every single person on my list, I do think Valentine’s Day is a great time to stop and let people know that I appreciate them in some way, and I try to do that for as many people that I can.
My own valentine box is not quite as majestic as my Mother’s. Since I am still a magnet for all things gold, sparkly and flashy, my box is filled with knickknacks that are definitely not home made, and were most likely made in China. One year I even satisfied my childhood desire and purchased those tiny cute valentines that said Bee Mine, and had tiny Cupids all over them. I have to admit though, when I bought them home and studied them, I had a thought that would make my mother proud. I found myself wrinkling up my nose at them and decided they looked a little bit tacky and cheap and didn’t have any personality or style. I decided to cut them up and use them to make my own valentines, just like I did when I was a child. Then I added fabric, ribbon and of course, a lot more gold glitter!
Happy Valentine’s Day
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