I love Valentine’s Day. For some reason it has become one of my favorite holidays. The last couple of years I’ve tried to make it more about the kids instead of us, because as my husband said Valentine’s Day wasn’t really as important to him as to me. Now, that may sound terrible, but I did ask – he didn’t just volunteer the information.
You see, the past several years I’ve looked at this day as the day that I should be guaranteed some sort of romance. But this weekend has changed all that.
Right now I’m writing this at 9:00pm, in my pajamas, in bed with tissues and cough-drop wrappers on my nightstand. This weekend we all, 4 children and myself, save my husband, got sick, and he has been taking care of us.
This year the gifts that he has given – the box of tissues bought just for me; hot tea; Tylenol; and the words “I love you with all my heart” while all I can do is concentrate on not coughing – make the flowers and cards pale in comparison.
He has given and shown a true love this past week. A love that gives of itself before seeking its own. He’s given me a 1 Corinthians 13 kind of love for Valentine’s Day, and I’ll cherish it forever.