Surviving Valentine's Day

I don't think I've ever been so aware of the advertising frenzy surrounding Valentine's Day, and the media attention given to this, what I consider to be, minor holiday than I was this year. I suppose it's not surprising, since this is the first time in nearly 50 years that I have been without a serious "love interest." Granted, there are Valentines for parents to give to their children; for children to give to their parents; for students to give to their teachers; and for friends to give to their "just friends"; but, let's face it, we all know that the true focus of Valentine's Day is romance—at least, from the perspective of advertisers and the media.

The funny thing is, Art and I never really did much to celebrate Valentine's Day. When we were first married, he had a job that paid him once a month on the 15th of the month. Unless we planned ahead, we were lucky to have enough money left to buy each other a card, let alone a gift. Over the years we may have occasionally exchanged gifts, or gone out for a special dinner, or, more often, cooked a special dinner at home. After he retired and moved to Florida, we did start going out with friends for a special Valentine's Day dinner; and, when Norman Love opened up a chocolate shop nearby, Art started giving me a box of delicious, and decadent, chocolates; but we never made a "big deal" out of it (no diamond jewelry or long-stemmed red roses).

Now that I'm a widow, I have developed a new found sympathy for the Charlie Brown's of the world. Many people, under normal circumstances, may be perfectly contented with their "singleness." Some may have even chosen to remain single, because they value their independence. Others may not have chosen to be single, but have lost a spouse through death or divorce. In either case, when Valentine's Day rolls around, thanks to the wonderful world of advertising, it's difficult not to feel a bit like a "loser."