A Healthier Love

  I still have all the cards, all the love letters, written before a time when people sent emails and texts.   Someday, when we are gone, the kids will pull out the old red box, sit down and read them, maybe share a story or two.  I've even held on to all the notes that came with the roses.  Simple and short, they are memories of two people who beat the odds.  All the candlelit dinners, all the mylar balloons, all the decadent chocolate...so many years.  So many memorable Valentine's Days.
  I remember the happiest Valentine's Day when we lived in the townhouse in Virginia.  I came out of the bathroom and jumped up and down on the bed like a little kid.  When my husband woke up, I said "Happy Valentine's Day Sweetie".  I told him that according to the stick I just peed on, I was positively pregnant and by the way, it was going to be a boy.  I just knew...somehow.  
   I remember the saddest Valentine's Day in Arizona.  We had just returned from my father's funeral.  I drove him to the Brigade so he could head back, redeploy to the impending war with Iraq.  He reached up and put two heart stickers on the truck's rear view mirror.  In all the months he was gone, and even after he returned, I never removed them.
   I remember when, together, he and I decided to be organ donors adding a bright red heart to our individual driver's licenses.  There is no doubt Valentine's Day has had a special place for my husband and I.
   Last night, I stood in line at a local grocery store and watched the typical day before Valentine's Day shoppers.  For one, there were only men...and they were all carrying the expected flowers, candy, and card.  I wasn't much better.  I really didn't plan anything special this year.  Honestly, my biggest purchase this week has been cold medicine...lots of it (but I'm better now).    
   Saturday night, I was still sick, but well enough.  We were able to attend the Armed Forces Communications Electronics Association (AFCEA) ball.  It was an opportunity to get dressed up and spend a lovely evening with friends and coworkers.  We listened to Lee Greenwood sing.  We enjoyed a tasty meal. He ate my steak (I don't eat beef or pork).  He gave me his salmon.  We drank wine.  We danced.  And, because our son had a scout function the same night, we enjoyed a night alone at the hotel.  We don't have too many of those anymore.  
   I am still enjoying the wonderful edible arrangement my husband gave me on Friday (between the three of us, we already finished off the dark chocolate covered strawberries).  And I am now wearing a beautiful heart necklace our son bought me.  He gave it to me this morning just before he left for school.  
   As I stepped on treadmill to do my morning walk, I thought what could I possibly give to my family after all this on a Monday?  A wonderful dinner in...sure.  We can't go out.  There will be homework.  There always is.  I could suggest we have a family fun night, maybe with a game of dominoes or scrabble?  Or we could watch a movie together and share a big bowl of whole grain popcorn.  Yes, time together is a wonderful gift.  But this year, maybe I'm already giving them more than something that lasts a day.
   I am not in bed, and I am not at the doctor's office.  I am off all my pain medications.  I am more social.  I am less anxious.  I can do more with them because I am less fearful that I will twist or fall or injure.  I suffer less.  I cry less.  I am a lighter, stronger, more fit wife and mom.
   What I have to give my family is a healthier love than before.  Its not something I bought or made.  Its not something I wrote.  Sure, I still gave cards and sweet treats.  But somehow, its better this year, because I have made a commitment to be there, to be my very best, and to love them for longer than I would have before I made this commitment to get healthy.  Happy Valentine's Day to you and all those you love.

The Red Box