- Growing up, my father gave me a Valentine's Day card every year, and it made me feel loved.
- He still sends me a valentine every year in the mail. It has become our tradition.
When my son was 4 years old, he wanted to marry me. He believed people who truly loved each other stayed together forever, and this meant the two of us had to get hitched. Careful not to include scary stories of Greek tragedies and missing eyeballs, I tried to explain why this couldn't happen. This was a big concept for a small kid, and the whole thing confused him.
Cradling him while he cried, I whispered, "I'll love you forever." My words didn't heal quickly, so I thought of ways my parents supported our connection. I then remembered the Valentine's Day cards my dad gave me every year.
I'm not exactly sure how Valentine's Day cards from my dad started
It's one of those things that's always been around, similar to a Claire's store in the local mall, or the world's innate knowledge of Beatles lyrics. When I was around my son's age, the first Valentine's Day cards showed up with my father after a long day of work and school. They were always thoughtful and always read: "Happy Valentine's Day! Love you, Dad."
I distinctly remember doing my homework at the kitchen table one Valentine's Day when I was 12 years old. My eyes kept wandering to the clock above the stove as I tried to predict when my dad would be home. His job as an orthopedic salesperson kept him working odd hours, so one night, he might be here during the evening news, and another day, he might be there after afternoon cartoons. I told myself I was too old to watch cartoons, but somehow, I didn't feel too old for a Valentine's Day card from my dad. I was curious to see if he'd remember this year, because the boy I liked at school certainly had not.
Walking into the kitchen during the evening news, my dad said, "Here you go, Sweetie."
He handed me a red envelope, but didn't hang around to watch me open it. He let me take my time ripping and tugging until I could read the inscription: "Happy Valentine's Day! Love, Dad."
I yelled "thanks" and tucked the card into my backpack. His Valentine's card mingled with the other 36 cards from my classmates, but it added up to so much more. I'd forgotten about the boy who'd bruised my heart because my dad hadn't forgotten me. I felt the love — and I came to count on it.
Relationships came and went, but my dad and his Valentine's Day cards were always there
Of course, there were other cards for birthdays and holidays, and other instances when my parents supported me, but those Valentine's Day cards made an impression. The cards grew with me — when I was little, it was fun to have a present, as a tween they demystified a grown-up holiday, and now as an adult, I feel appreciated and, well, loved.
As I grew up, I've come to expect the Valentine's Day card in my mailbox every year. I'm always happy to get a letter that isn't a bill.
Now with some parenting perspective, I see how years of consistency gave way to establishing greater feelings of trust between me and my dad
Somehow, he'd moved the romance and commercialism out of Valentine's Day and centered the holiday around love — the love between the two of us. And I want that for my kiddo, too.
So when my kid was 4 years old, I picked up my father's tradition. I'm hoping I can add the same sense of fun and consistency to our connection that my father has added to ours.
I'm only 4 years in, but it's a specific kind of déjà vu watching my kid happily take his time ripping and tugging into red envelopes to read what the card always says: "Happy Valentine's Day! Love you, Mom."