Happy Valentines Day, Maggie
Feb. 14th, 2007 06:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
coffeesnob318I don’t typically celebrate Valentines Day. In fact, I’m more of the Anti-Valentines girl. It is much more comfortable for my cold, jaded heart to rant about consumerism and wallow in my singleness and set things on fire during a rousing bout of performance art than it is to grin all day long. Even when I get it in my head that I’m going to remain chipper and gushy on this day, I fail miserably. I’m quite terrible at it. I’ve really tried in the past. I had Random Act of Kindness V-Day one year, which rapidly morphed into Random Awkward Moments Purposely Staged to See How Strangers Would React V-Day. I dressed completely in red and pink one year, hoping that the pseudo-costume (I do love a costume) would jumpstart my mood, but no. My mood remained the same. The outfit did, however, subject me to the interaction of many creepily ecstatic people who assumed because of my attire that I was just as excited about the holiday as they were. And I don’t even want to talk about the Hershey’s kiss fiasco of 2000. It’s just so easy for me to find and focus on things that I don’t like about Valentines Day.
But I can’t do that this year. You see, I have this friend Maggie who loves Valentines Day more than I ever imagined humanly possible. So Valentines Day reminds me of her. And I like Maggie. I cannot, therefore, even manage to work up a good rant, because thinking of her makes me happy.
What I can do is dedicate a post to her on her favorite holiday. But this will not be a post about flowers and chocolate. Flowers die, and, contrary to popular belief, there is such a thing as too much chocolate. Instead, I’m going to pick out moments I remember from the last few years that have looked like love to me.
Some of these moments are about specific people. Some of them are more general. Some of them are my family. Some of them are some of you.
This is a celebration of these moments, none of which occurred on Valentines Day but in normal, everyday life, where the real stuff of love actually happens.
An extraordinarily bad dancer getting WAY out of his comfort zone so that she doesn’t have to be by herself on the dance floor.
A young mother in my class smiling through her tears when she talked about her hero – her husband – returning from Baghdad this coming June.
Forgiving him and never bringing it up again.
A dad trying to teach his not-quite-talking son the word “beautiful” by pointing at his wife.
A friend showing me a funny dance move that his wife taught him with such a look of admiration and awe on his face that you’d think she’d revealed to him the mysteries of quantum physics.
Cooking dinner together.
Writing her a song so that he could sing it to her at their wedding.
Sneaking out of bed to brush your teeth before the first kiss of the day.
Not caring about morning breath.
A wife, upon hearing about the heart disease of her husband of 60+ years, fighting the screaming urge inside of her to ask him to settle for a less active life, knowing that although he would do it for her if she asked, it would never make him happy.
My mom and dad washing dishes together.
Friends who cry when you’re sad.
Thinking he looks sexy drinking a beer after mowing the lawn.
Stopping the car to move a dead animal off the road and out of sight so that it won’t upset her on her way home.
Listening without trying to fix it.
Trying to fix it.
Still loving and caring for her husband even after the stroke changed everything she once loved about him.
A toddler giving up his last French fry.
My mom and dad sitting on the porch swing, drinking coffee and watching the sunrise together.
Being a good mom.
Being a good dad.
Being a good friend.
This is an interactive entry. Feel free to add your own moments below, no matter how simple they are.
But I can’t do that this year. You see, I have this friend Maggie who loves Valentines Day more than I ever imagined humanly possible. So Valentines Day reminds me of her. And I like Maggie. I cannot, therefore, even manage to work up a good rant, because thinking of her makes me happy.
What I can do is dedicate a post to her on her favorite holiday. But this will not be a post about flowers and chocolate. Flowers die, and, contrary to popular belief, there is such a thing as too much chocolate. Instead, I’m going to pick out moments I remember from the last few years that have looked like love to me.
Some of these moments are about specific people. Some of them are more general. Some of them are my family. Some of them are some of you.
This is a celebration of these moments, none of which occurred on Valentines Day but in normal, everyday life, where the real stuff of love actually happens.
An extraordinarily bad dancer getting WAY out of his comfort zone so that she doesn’t have to be by herself on the dance floor.
A young mother in my class smiling through her tears when she talked about her hero – her husband – returning from Baghdad this coming June.
Forgiving him and never bringing it up again.
A dad trying to teach his not-quite-talking son the word “beautiful” by pointing at his wife.
A friend showing me a funny dance move that his wife taught him with such a look of admiration and awe on his face that you’d think she’d revealed to him the mysteries of quantum physics.
Cooking dinner together.
Writing her a song so that he could sing it to her at their wedding.
Sneaking out of bed to brush your teeth before the first kiss of the day.
Not caring about morning breath.
A wife, upon hearing about the heart disease of her husband of 60+ years, fighting the screaming urge inside of her to ask him to settle for a less active life, knowing that although he would do it for her if she asked, it would never make him happy.
My mom and dad washing dishes together.
Friends who cry when you’re sad.
Thinking he looks sexy drinking a beer after mowing the lawn.
Stopping the car to move a dead animal off the road and out of sight so that it won’t upset her on her way home.
Listening without trying to fix it.
Trying to fix it.
Still loving and caring for her husband even after the stroke changed everything she once loved about him.
A toddler giving up his last French fry.
My mom and dad sitting on the porch swing, drinking coffee and watching the sunrise together.
Being a good mom.
Being a good dad.
Being a good friend.
This is an interactive entry. Feel free to add your own moments below, no matter how simple they are.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-02-15 10:33 pm (UTC)Letting your friend put a TV show you hate on your TiVo just because it makes them happy.
Receiving puppy kisses.
Seeing someone smile at you encouragingly.
no subject
Date: 2007-02-16 06:50 am (UTC)