Valentines Day
I've developed a practice of discussing expectations with any potential valentine well ahead of the day. I generally aim for some small observance that is low stress and appropriate to the relationship at hand. If I studiously avoid feeding capitalism, I can generally navigate the day with warmth and connection. It can be nice.
So it was that last year Jamie and I enjoyed a casual early dinner out and a walk around a lake for Valentines. No cards, no gifts, no flowers, just us together with a dose of nature thrown in. It was a lovely evening that felt like the start of a lovely tradition.
I felt a little guilty that night that I didn't have dinner with Ryan. Jamie and I had been traveling and Ryan has been with his dad. I was still working at reconnecting with my not-very-available teen. Mealtimes were one of the best opportunities. But we'd had a nice breakfast together and Ryan was just as happy with frozen pizza. It didn't seem unreasonable to spend Valentine's as a couple. There would be other dinners at home with Ryan. Except, there weren't.
The next night I was with clients through the dinner hour, and by the night after that he was gone and I didn't feel like eating at all.
And just like that Valentines, like so many things in life, is painted with grief and loss. I try to remember the times their dad and I took the kids out for Valen
tine's breakfast, all the heart shaped pancakes I made over the years, and the parties with games and friends (and glitter!). But just now, none of that feels as real as the dinner I might have shared with him but didn't. Valentine's will never been the same.
Comments
Post a Comment