You simply cannot be more surprised than I, that this post is being written.
For the record, I believe Valentines to be over-marketed and while I acknowledge the day and genuinely apprecite how important it is to others – – I’ve always seen myself as a “Just Another Day” person.
So imagine my surprise when I awoke Thursday morning, from a rosy dream of ex-hubby and the golden days from early in our marriage, to find myself Heartbroken that we no longer are and never will be together again on Valentines Day.
You coulda knocked me over with a feather to realize I had somehow missed being proactively self-improved in time to evade this catastrophe.
Since strength-of-will (or it’s lesser cousin, Anger) is my coping mechanism of choice, I set about reminding myself why we were no longer together.
But I could come up with valid reasons for each and every betrayal, heartache and hurt – both from his side and mine. Time and again, I tried to follow my own brand of dealing with yearning for that which is not…which goes something like this:
“Stop your whining, you weak-willed wussies! So what you didn’t have some sappy-smarmy card or flowers this year. You gonna lay down and give up, you noodle-backboned sissies!?!”
And time and again, I was brought back to when love was new, Life’s ups and downs had not way-laid us and we believed that being together was all we’d ever need.
On the plus side, the child unit appreciated my Yosemite Sam take on the holiday – I shared with him Mom’s view on what this woman thinks makes a man and how to observe and adopt those manly features he admires in the men he knows – and how to cut loose the ones he doesn’t like.
In other words, making the conscious choice, each and every day, to be a man someone would want for Valentines.
In the end, I did end up sharing Valentines with ex. Child unit’s lingering post-flu cough started to get worse again and after visiting the doctor, I asked if he’d like to go for pizza – sort of our Valentines gift to each other. He said yes and when I called the father-unit to give the good news, “No, not bronchitis, just auto-reactive response to the flu”, before I thought better of it, I said we would be near his work for pizza and if he didn’t have plans, did he want to join us?
(What I was thinking, I know not – given my emotional meter that day, if he’d said he was busy, it would have been hard to swallow. But I always call when we’ll be nearby – – because of school and sports schedules, they don’t get near as much time together as they’d like, so if we’re in town, I call.)
To my relief, he didn’t have plans and he joined us for supper.
I don’t have any illusions – – one sappy day does not mean you try to make something that isn’t into what you wish for it to be.
On the other hand, the Yosemite Sam in me was secretly pleased – – guess I’m not as quickly replaced as I thought I would be…