Making the Most of Valentine's Day

“They say” that Valentine's Day is a "made-up" holiday, created by Hallmark and other merchants to fill the gap between Christmas and Easter with things to buy (flowers, candy, cards). Maybe merchants do capitalize on Valentine's Day, but its origins don't support the cynicism.

There really was a St. Valentine, a Christian martyr of ancient Rome, who, romantically enough, conducted marriages for soldiers who were forbidden to marry. The tradition of courtly love took advantage of Valentine's Day in the 14th century, and even in 18th-century England, lovers were giving valentines and flowers. Many other places in the world besides our own country celebrate Valentine's Day. 

Some men (especially men, though some women, too) scoff at Valentine's Day as just a lot of sentimental hogwash. Apparently some men also take advantage of it to deflect discovery of the mistress by giving flowers to the wife. We can't prevent such hypocrisy, but we don't have to denigrate the holiday because of it. I read somewhere recently that some man has suggested that, in parallel with Black History Month and Women's History Month, there be a White Man's History Month. But all we've had for centuries is White Man's History! We use specific months or days to bring attention to what would otherwise be, or for centuries has been, buried beyond our consciousness. 

It is so easy to take our sweetheart (husband, wife, partner) for granted that it seems justifiable to set a day aside as an opportunity to say to one's beloved: you are special in my life; that's why I give you this chocolate – these flowers – this poem. We have Mother's Day and Father's Day so children can take a fresh and appreciative view of their parents. Christmas gift-giving is not specific to sweethearts but broadly applied, to family, friends, colleagues. We set aside a particular time for recognizing those fallen in war and those who have labored, another time to remember the founding of our country. Surely it's just as important to remember our sweethearts. 

In spite of grammar school valentine exchanges, Valentine's Day is for sweethearts, not for friends or other family. If you don't have a sweetheart, the day passes without notice. But if you do have a sweetheart, don't neglect, despise, or abuse the day. It's your opportunity to say, "I love you," and don’t you think we should take advantage of every possible opportunity to say that?

So that’s what I did with the Valentine’s Day poem below.

How Do I Know I Love You?

Diana Coogle, February 14, 2018

I'm not sure I know, any more,

what love is.

I don't think it is, any more, 

Catherine-Heathcliff:

that wild passion

that rampages past

everything in its path,

though at one time

I thought it was.

I don't think it is, any more,

Elizabeth-Darcy:

marriage as the point of love,

though at one time

I, too, wanted wedding bells

with my love.

Nor do I think it is

Madame Bovary's 

picture-painting sentimentality

romanticizing a sordid reality,

though at one time

I might have done the same.

I'm not sure I know what love is.

I call you "honey-bunny" only in jest,

perpetuating our private joke.

I don't say, "I love you" when we part at the door

or even when we're making love.

I didn't say, "I love you, too," the one time

you said those words to me.

I'm afraid of the words

when I don't know what they mean.

But there are two things I do know:

you are the best companion I've ever had

and when I think of your close call with cancer,

when I think of my life without you in it,

I feel how deep would flow

the well of sorrow. 

If any of that be love,

then I know one thing more:

I love you.