Well it has been way too long since my last entry, but leave it to St. Valentine to prompt me to write. Today made me think of the first time I had an understanding of what Valentine’s Day meant in both a commercial and non-commercial sense.
There is of course the early days in grade school (at least in the USA) where it was common practice to go and purchase a pack of 4” x 2” cards with speech bubble phrases such as ‘Be Mine Valentine’ illustrated with popular cartoon characters to pass out to classmates on Valentine’s Day. What this means to a 6 year old is a fun card collection from friends that eventually over time turns into a card from a boyfriend, girlfriend or anonymous admirer in ones teen years. After that, as the years roll on, the day becomes one of bitter-hate or an embraceable symbolism of love, depending on ones past experiences.
That said, we have all at one point or another heard Valentine’s Day referred to as a Hallmark Holiday. For those living under a rock or elsewhere, the phrase derives from the greeting card production line/Hallmark company banking on people to make one day of the year a day to express ones love to another significant being. And people surely do latch on to the idea the world round . . . for the most part. At least the store aisles plastered in red and white sure do think so.
I will never forget the boyfriends of past who always went on about how they ‘did not need a day to dictate when and how to say I love you’. As a result, I was often the girlfriend not receiving a dozen roses delivered at work for my co-workers to envy. I lived, but I have to say it was at times disheartening to watch the charades some loved up couples put on while you received zilch, especially when I was single status.
Yet, this brief entry is not about slamming the holiday filled with ample supply of boxed chocolates, red roses and stuffed teddy bears. It is about the card. You see, despite all the hoopla sometimes surrounding this day, each year without fail my grandmother sent a card filled with tiny confetti hearts for Valentine’s. No matter if I was dating someone or single, I could count on my letterbox to contain a card from her each year at this time. One with the Hallmark insigne.
Did this card in the mail make me feel a bit more loved? Sure thing. Although this is not to say I did not feel loved any other day of the year by my grandmother or anyone else for that matter, but it was that extra thought that stood out from any other typical day.
Sadly these days I no longer receive a card from my grandmother who is too unwell to send out hand-written and hand-posted cards of any sort in the mail. It may seem commercial to some, but I miss the ‘Hallmark Greeting’. I miss opening the letterbox to find a card addressed to me. I miss the tiny confetti hearts that fell out of the card when I opened it. I miss the message enclosed.
While we definitely never need a day to remind us to tell someone or show someone we love them, St. Valentine’s can’t be all bad nor can dropping a card in the mail that says, ‘Dear You, Happy Valentine’s Day! XOXO’.
