Reflections On Valentines Day

There are so many groups of people who could be addressed, or topics (a variant of the main topic, of course) that could be touched upon regarding this holiday we call Valentine's Day - but I will most closely reflect upon my own little world and situation.

Let me begin by saying that my Husband is not a romantic, in a traditional or non-traditional sense of the word. Perhaps wives with similar husbands may draw encouragement, that you are not the only one, and single women who dream of a lovely Valentine's Day with chocolate, flowers, hand-written notes, etc., may draw from this a lesson that not all men are the same.

Valentine's Day in the Little House (Yesterday):
Wife is sick on her stomach and the baby is not sleeping as late as he should, meaning that Wife and baby are awake to say good morning to Pa as he leaves for work (which is a good thing). The morning passes with the help of the remaining episodes of Little Dorrit that Wife didn't get to finish with the Big House Folk over the weekend, and the kitchen is slowly cleaned, between poopy diapers and feedings. Husband calls from work and asks what's for lunch, and Wife whips up some mushroom/onion/chicken quesadillas. He comes, eats, kisses Wife, and vanishes for the remainder of the afternoon. She is left to entertain baby, still queasy and taking it hour by hour. Finally Husband comes home, the baby is dropped off with Aunt Arwen to play, and The Steward and Goldberry go out to eat at a local restaurant. Nothin' fancy, just tasty "Granny's kitchen" type fare. No candlelight. No roses. Just two people who love each other, enjoying a comfortable meal out, under the fluorescent lights of a whistle stop cafe. Husband may not be a romantic, but he knows how to care for his wife and family. He prays a special prayer once the food arrives at the table, a prayer for God's blessing and guidance, and for growth and knitting closer of this marriage. He does not have to give me flowers or letters. (Though they are certainly very appreciated when they do come!) My Husband prays for me.

I reflect at large about how Husband loves me, and truly if it were measured in letters and flowers and gifts it would not amount to the glowing love he bears for me and his family. His love is measured in the work he does for us, in the care he gives, in the time he spends with us and for us. I wouldn't want him to be any different! I love him very much.

I love you, Dearest, Most Wonderful Husband!