i don't give a whit about valentine's day.
never did, never will.
never took any girl out on a date, or gave her flowers and chocolates, on or around feb 14.
the first and last time i gave a valentine's card was in 5th grade, to my parents.
but...
last week i visited a bookstore and picked not just one, but two cards.
one's a card in pink flowers (but not for valentine's), bearing a special although belated anniversary message.
another's a thank-you card with a semi-ethnic papyrus motif in dark green and gold.
at first i felt awkward, even silly, writing on the cards and feeling like a 5th grader again.
but i reminded myself, it wasn't an artificial, reflex-action valentine ritual.
it was an outpouring that defied the boundaries of time and season, denied the rules of rhyme and reason.
it felt exhilarating to imprint my heart's trembling words on the fresh blank inside panel of the cards, using my favorite pen, in my easily-recognized handwriting.
i will send them later today, by postal mail, to a loved one and soulmate.
it's my way of saying, "we survived the storms, we will endure and thrive through the years."
i don't even have to receive any reply in return.
i know the cards will be received, and held close to the bosom, and treasured.
i'm sure all of us have sweet memories of sending cards with heartfelt messages.
have you sent such a card lately?
i will, this afternoon.
and my heart will feel as light as i have never felt before.
