True Love

It's Valentine's night, and I'm propped in my queen sized bed with my trusty laptop and loyal dogs lying comfortably around me. Last night at this time, I was in the same spot, dreading the day that stretched before me: Valentine's Day, a day for lovers, a day single people like me dreaded.

I didn't always feel this way about Valentine's Day. I used to love it. I used to be the recipient of romance in the form of flowers and chocolate and romantic gestures. For 19 consecutive Valentines days, my late husband made sure I had a dozen red roses. In fact, roses became his signature; but not just on Valentine's Day or special occasions. He'd bring flowers home often, for no reason at all.

The first time I received roses from him was after our first date. I was surprised to get them the next morning with a note that said how much he enjoyed the evening and how he hoped he could see me again. Surprised because although I thought we had a great time, he left so abruptly after our concert date I thought I read him wrong. Phil wasn't much of a drinker, and apparently his mix of wine at dinner followed by 2 beers at Blossom had him feeling a little queasy. At the end of the evening he walked me into my apartment and rushed away, leaving me thinking he didn't enjoy the night as much as I did. Turns out he threw up in the bushes once outside. I didn't hear that story from him until almost a year later.

Throughout our dating life and all through our marriage he brought me roses fairly regularly. I'd ask him why. What was the occasion? He said there didn't have to be an occasion. When the girls came along he'd get me a dozen, and give each of them a single rose. It became his trademark. I guess God rewarded his good husbandly behavior because one night he was on his way home with a dozen roses in the passenger seat and he got pulled over for speeding. When the officer asked him where he was going in such a hurry, Phil pointed to the flowers. The officer said his wife would kill him if he gave a ticket to a man rushing home to his wife with flowers so he let him go. Phil decided he should keep artificial flowers in the car all the time "just in case".

This morning my 16 year-old daughter came into my room to kiss me goodbye before she went to school and I to work. We both agreed we weren't too much into the Valentine's Day that lay ahead of us. As she hugged me goodbye she told me she loved me and said "Valentine's Day is a day to celebrate love in general...so I'm going to celebrate all the people I love...especially you!" I smiled and hugged her back. Her positive attidude was contagious.

At about 3:30 this afternoon, I walked into my office after a meeting and there were a dozen red roses on my desk, and a note that said "Dad told me to do it".

My Laura, so much like her Dad in so many ways, had surprised me with the roses she knew I had come to miss so much.

True love comes in many forms.

I am blessed with true love this Valentine's Day after all.