I have no particular sentimental attachments to Valentine’s Day. It conjures up memories of the second grade at Condon Elementary school in 1955, and an empty envelope taped to the front of my desk because none of those kids who brought in silly cheap cartoon valentines had addressed one to me. To my recollection, only once have I received an affectionate valentine that might possibly have been a genuine expression of love. I never found out for certain who sent it.
In February of 1969, when I was living in a shared student apartment and had zero romance in my life, the mail brought me a fancy commercial valentine, signed “Guess who”, that contained a tiny gold colored key and the message: “This is the key to my heart: in one month the lock will be changed.” I asked every suspect, but no one admitted to sending it.
I now wonder if it was from my father, who had a fine-honed sense of humor. At twenty I rarely communicated with my family. In later years we became reconciled, and going through his papers after his death I realized he loved me much more than he was ever able to express. My own daughter is now grown. I love her, and I make a point of telling her so, in words and in my actions. I tell other people I love them and don’t worry about being thought sentimental or insincere. At least that’s better than casting a genuine expression of love upon the waters, and never being suspected of being the author of it.
Photo Credit
Image From – The Microsoft Office Clip Art Collection
Recent Martha Sherwood Articles:
- Books of Life
- A Scientist Thinks Outside the Box: The Null Hypothesis
- The Contraception Debate in Cyberspace
- Cancer and uncontrolled socioeconomic growth - a common cause?
- A Brief Excursion into National Vital Statistics
- Key To My Heart
- Capital Gains Tax Breaks – Not Just for the Rich
- Listening to my Gut
- Pathogenic Evil
- Election-Year Paralysis Cripples American Legislative Process
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