Happy Hallmark Card Buying Day!
With Valentine’s Day upon us I thought I would share with you my personal love story along with a photo of a rose that I took at my happiest place on earth, The Huntington Gardens. I know some people feel that Valentine’s Day is a pretend holiday created by greeting card companies to make a quick buck, but still, I love the day of LOVE. Anytime I get to shower my family with candy, cards and a gift or two, I’m happy. Ok, receiving that stuff feels awfully nice, as well. I also like adorning my dog with a fluffy, heart-shaped hat.
In actuality, Valentine’s Day started in Roman times with the festival of Lupercalia, held in mid-February. According to the omnipresent, all knowing internet, “The festival, which celebrated the coming of spring, included fertility rites and the pairing off of women with men by lottery. At the end of the 5th century, Pope Gelasius I replaced Lupercalia with St. Valentine’s Day.” Apparently, Pope G wanted to “Christianize” a pagan ritual. We all know that the Romans built big coliseums, bridges, roads, aqueducts, and raced chariots, but I never knew they were so unromantic as to require a lottery to propagate.
There is also a mystery about who actually was the Saint Valentine the holiday was named after. Differing legends celebrate three different saints called Valentine or Valentinus. Two Valentines were executed (gasp!) and one Valentine was a Roman priest who performed weddings for soldiers who were not allowed to marry (in those days married soldiers were not considered good warriors! My, have times changed!). Apparently, this Valentine wore a ring with a cupid on it so soldiers could easily identify him. This same Valentine handed out paper hearts symbolizing a love of G-d. Isn’t he adorable? Who wouldn’t want him to have a holiday?
All of that history about Saint Valentine has made me crave a latte with a foamy heart:
Speaking of cupids and hearts, I thought I would share my personal love story today. It is a story of two people with baggage, five kids, a daughter-in-law and a boat load of pets between them who were lucky enough to find each other in their 50s.
I first met my husband, Kevin, at a concert in the park on a hot, summer day. He was with some mutual friends — his son and their son played basketball together — and Kevin was one of the basketball coaches. We exchanged hellos and a brief conversation and then I went on my merry way. I don’t remember anything we talked about, but he impressed me with his sense of humor and intelligence. I was not in a place to be in a serious relationship; it turns out, neither was he.
Flash forward six months to New Year’s Day. Those same mutual friends had a party on January 1st, 2014. It turns out that Kevin and I arrived with our children at the exact same time. Another guest, seeing us walk in together with kids, assumed we were married. We laughed it off; but the mistaken marriage identity became a playful skit between us that day.
“Honey, do you want a beer? They have your favorite, ” Kevin quipped.
“Sure, darling! You always read my mind!” I retorted.
The whole day we bounced these flirty, marital exchanges back and forth to the amusement of all at the party. Still, neither one of us was ready for anything more. I had been widowed in 2011 and was going to therapy for depression…he had been divorced a few years earlier. Not to mention, both of us had been married twice before. I did feel an undeniable attraction to him, and I thought his “agreement” to play along with our pretend marriage was a promising sign of interest. He didn’t ask for my phone number and I didn’t offer it…but a spark was there.
Flash forward another six months to July 4th. A whole year since we first met! I had thought of him on and off…even went to one of the basketball games he coached with our mutual friend. My friends had a July 4th party and we there together (again) with our playful banter. At that point in my life, I had made a lot of progress with overcoming my depression. I had briefly dated someone else, too, and it didn’t work out. My therapist reassured me, however, “I think you are in a good place to meet someone very special soon,” he said.
Finally, as the July 4th festivities started to wind down, I got ready to leave. I hoped Kevin would ask for my number, though I knew that if he really wanted it, he could ask our mutual friends. I stalled a bit as I said goodbye, hoping he would ask, and still nothing. As I walked out of the house, I turned around and said as a parting shot, “Call me, you schmuck.”
Yes, I said that. No, it is not very romantic or ladylike. Yet, it worked…almost. About a week went by and when I didn’t hear from him my mutual friend encouraged me to text him. She gave me his number and I texted him hello. He texted back and within a day or two, he called me! YAY!
I could pull out “The Rest is History” catch all to neatly explain the rest of our courtship which led to our for real marriage on February 18, 2018. We each had to put in a lot of work to overcome our pasts, manage our expectations and…conquer that evil twin in every relationship…our fears. One of the many things I appreciated about Kevin from the beginning was his self-deprecating humor; but along with that came a self-introspection. He wanted to learn from his mistakes, he wanted to be better.
And so did I! We were imperfect people reaching for something intangible –a new beginning, a new way of showing up in the world, a new, wiser perspective on what we could each bring into a relationship. We also had two families to blend.
We navigated those early waters slowly. Our love grew over time as we each made our share of mistakes and shared successes. One of the best things we did from the very start was to talk things over and nip disagreements in the bud. Without knowing it, we created an environment where vulnerability was okay. The majority of those conversations were difficult, but we figured that at this point in our lives, we had to speak our truths. Honestly, we had nothing to lose! I am an introvert by nature and prefer writing (go figure!) to talking, but I forced myself to express my needs.
One of the best things we did prior to tying the knot, was to spend time with my trusted therapist who helped us learn tools to apply to life’s challenges. Those sessions were very helpful in finding tangible ways to communicate — to be heard as well as to be a better listener. I am one of those people who sometimes only hears what she wants to hear. You hear me?
There you have my love story which is indeed a work-in-progress. Part of the fun is figuring out what works and what doesn’t. Like the eternal symbol of love itself, the heart, which pumps old blood out and new blood in, love never stands still — it is constantly in motion, ever changing, beating to an ancient rhythm that goes back to the dawn of time — even before those frisky Romans!
Here we are at the Wynn Hotel in Las Vegas, on our wedding day.
Wishing you all a fabulous Valentine’s Day whether it is with a significant other, your family, your pets, or quietly on your own celebrating your wonderful self!
Love, Cheryl
Cheryl Thatt-Burbank 