To my parents:
My first valentines. You held me and made me feel worthy. You love each other with visible enthusiasm. You love your children and grandchildren with vigor, unrestrained. To follow your example makes me a better wife to my husband. A better mother to my son. Because you’ve shown me how, I try to choose love over less meaningful things every day.
To my husband:
No gift. No card. I offer merely myself. To love you more today than yesterday. Our life may not be filled with extravagance or non-stop action, but there are so many moments that you shine. I hope that you are happy, that you always know I’m proud of the man you are. I love that you’re my best friend, you keep my heart and my toes warm, and you sometimes even read my mind. Thank you for marrying me, for giving me this family. I did. I do. I will.
To my son:
Valentine’s day has probably gotten a bit out of hand with the commercialism and the pressure to create an air of romance in the most grandiose way possible. But at the heart* of this holiday is a celebration of love. And love celebrates life. I have loved you for your whole life so far, from before you were born. And I will love you for the rest of it. I’m new at this love, still finding the words. It is so pure, so primal, so strong that strong is not a strong enough adjective to describe it. You amaze me. You cling to me and run from me. I scoop you up or follow, out of breath.
*pun totally intended