Mr. Lincoln does not like Valentine's Day. When we were younger, we had arguments galore as the "day of love" approached. He always called it Legislated Love, and let me say, he is very much against legislated love....well, legislated anything, really. I would get my feelings all in a wad and rev my quiet hostility into high gear. It was most enjoyable (a sarcasm font would be appropriate here).
I tried lots of things. I would drop hints as the day approached about little things that would make nice gifts. That sort of thing never works with him. I tried the most despised passive-aggressive course of action by telling him of the lovely gifts my friends' husbands had given them in the past. Okay, that worked not at all. I tried tears. I do not cry much. Crying for the purpose of getting something I want is almost impossible for me. Tears lose their effectiveness when the weeper is poking herself in the eye just to squeeze a few tears out. Mr. Lincoln is a smart man, so my forced tears did not move his heart. I tried just being angry and semi-yelling. I yell about as much as I cry, but I do find it easier to work up a good hollering fit than a crying jag. He is not a fan of the yelling, and in fact, on the few occasions that I have yelled at him in anger or frustration, he has let me know that he is not listening because he does not deserve to be spoken to in that manner, and, he's right. For about 10 years of our marriage the specter of Valentine's Day haunted us...well, truthfully, it only haunted me.
Somewhere around our 10th or 11th Valentine's Day together, it struck me that I had used poor reasoning in thinking that the responsibility for the romance of the day sat solely on Mr. Linconln's shoulders. Oh, I always got him a card, but truth be told, I did it mainly to make him feel somewhat ashamed that he had failed to get me a gift. This worked a little, but where is there pleasure in causing someone you love to feel badly because they have failed to live up to the expectations of a day? That proved to be a hollow victory.
I began to think of Valentine's Day like a toilet seat. Where in the Book of Life does it say that a man is inconsiderate and thoughtless if he does not put the toilet seat down for his wife? Why isn't she inconsiderate and thoughtless if she does not put the seat up for him? Well, Valentine's Day became a symbol of the toilet seat for me. I decided that instead of waiting for Mr. Lincoln to take charge of the Valentine romantic reins that I would do it. Why it took me ten years to figure this out is quite the conundrum. Let us just say that I am a slow learner.
I began to formulate a plan. This was about the time I was thinking of starting my walking tour business, and I needed some legal advice to work out the particulars. Who better than my attorney husband? I made an appointment to meet Mr. Lincoln at his office to discuss the matter at hand. We talked, and he was most encouraging and helpful. When the business discussion was over, I threw a key to a hotel room on his desk, smiled sweetly, and said, "Happy Valentine's Day!" I had made reservations at a restaurant for dinner as well, and to the best of my memory, I think I even paid for it from tour guide money. It was the first time that Mr. Lincoln did not mind legislated love.
I have received lots of little and big gifts on this day of romance since that year. This year is a bit different in that Mr. Lincoln is in trial preparation, and he is totally preoccupied. His first words to me this morning were, "happy Valentine's day," to which I replied, "same to you." As he was leaving, I wished him a good day, and told him that I would have dinner ready here tonight. He began to comtemplate what exactly we could have, and I quickly let him know that I was not taking orders and that I had no intention of spending the whole day cooking. I mean, there has to be some limit to my largesse.
After 38 years of marriage, I still think it is lovely to remember Valentine's Day. A card or flowers is still gratefully and joyfully received, but I have learned that it is all those other days that matter more to me....all those days that Mr. Lincoln has encouraged, overlooked faults, planned special events, loaded or unloaded the dishwasher, filled my car with gas, told me he loves me, worked to provide for our family, understood my desire for something new to wear, tended to our children, graciously gone the extra mile for me and for others....all those days where the love is willingly displayed, not legislated. Those are the days that matter most.
So, if I do not receive a card or flowers or a lovely sweater from Anthropologie (is that too specific?), I will not be quietly hostile, I will not cry, I will not pout, I will not yell, I will not regale him with stories of the lovely gifts my friends have received. What I will do is be grateful that God has allowed me to live my life beside Mr. Lincoln lo' these many years. I will feel honored to cook him a special Valentine's dinner. Nah, that last sentence is overkill. Maybe I'll just put the toilet seat up.
So for today, I wish you a happy Valentine's day with the ones you love, and I wish you
blessings
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