When my firstborn was just six months old, my husband sent me chocolate-covered strawberries to my office on Valentine’s day. It was so sweet and thoughtful of him, especially since we both knew how much I had craved strawberries during my pregnancy. Attached was a note that I still have: “We would be lost without you. Love you.” That night, my husband also gave me a handmade card featuring a beautiful picture of our baby, which I still have to this day.
Today, that blue-eyed baby is 3 ½ years old, and he’s since become a big brother. On Saturday, my husband, the 3 ½-year-old and our littlest one – now 15 months – all went to the grocery store, and my son saw a bundle of gerber daisies and pink carnations wrapped in cellophane. He pulled out one of the biggest bundles and brought it to me. “I want to get you these, Mommy,” he said clutching them to his chest. My husband very gently tried to explain to him that that was very thoughtful of him, but Daddy was already getting Mommy flowers, but my son couldn’t be swayed. So now that bundle of flowers – complete with a pink balloon-on-a-stick – is sitting on my kitchen counter. And I don’t think they could be any more beautiful.
When I look at those flowers, I’m reminded that my son loves me. I also know that my husband, who asked for my new work address over a week ago so that he could send me something for Valentine’s Day, loves me too. And judging by the way my one-year-old beat on the bathroom door tonight until I emerged, and then how he lifted up his little arms for me to pick him up, I’m thinking that he must love me as well. To be loved is a wonderful gift. And this Valentine’s, I’m reminded how very blessed I am to love and be loved in return.