Its Valentine’s Day.
I’ve been married to my first serious boyfriend since 1978. We’ll have dinner together tonight and drink some champagne. There’ll probably be flowers and/or chocolate. It will be sweet.
But I miss the real Valentine’s Day. So much.
I miss the little red cards left on breakfast plates in the morning.
I miss the stacks of folded cardboard valentines written carefully the night before and signed with care, ready to go in the backpacks.
I miss the crinkled white paper bags coming home full of cards and notes. I miss seeing the new pencil from the teacher. I miss sharing a few of those impossible to chew candy hearts with the cryptic messages.
I miss the heart shaped pizza that I’d serve for supper, followed by a heart shaped chocolate cake.
I miss the homemade cards. I miss the hugs, the “I love you, Mommy’s”, the special smiles.
Oh, I miss their voices.
I miss it all.