Table For One, Please
by Laura of Delicacies
A few weeks ago my boyfriend and I (if you still call them boyfriends at this age?) were out window shopping, and I found a great pair of silver earrings. The price wasn’t unreasonable but money’s tight right now so I decided against them. He wasn’t standing close by, yet was obviously listening because he walked over to the saleswoman and said we’d take them. Why? He saw something I liked and decided to treat me. That spontaneous gift means much more than any vase of red roses that might arrive on February 14.
I’m 55 years old. After too many years in a bad marriage and then the single years, Valentine’s Day holds little allure for me. Do I really need cards, flowers, sweets to reassure me that the person I’m in a relationship with cares about me? Good heavens, I hope not. I’m not saying that flowers aren’t wonderful… but frankly I’d be happier if they arrived on Martin Luther King Day or The Ides of March—or both. I want to be surprised. More importantly, I want any gift I might receive or give to come from a feeling of genuine desire. I don’t want to feel pressured or set up a partner for that kind of expectation either. And that’s what Valentine’s Day does. It’s a test, not unlike the teen line, “If you loved me, you would…” We have to find just the right gift for him or her to prove our love. How does one gauge what is enough? Not too much? Suppose I buy him bedroom slippers and he buys me a gold necklace? Oops! If all I receive is a simple card can I still hold my head up at the office on Monday?
Anyone can remember to buy a gift when the pressure is on and it has been for the last month or so. Hearts went up the same day that Santa came down. I want the man who thinks to give me something special when I’m least expecting it. I want the kind of relationship where we say and do sweet things on ordinary weekdays. The small things that show we think of each other on a daily basis- an offer to rub one’s feet after a long day, taking lunch to his office, or offering to help shovel snow.
Last year I wasn’t dating anyone. I don’t recall right now how I spent that day, probably with my head in a bottle of wine- red, of course. Celebrating some form of self love, hopefully. But I was probably bemoaning my fate as a single woman, worrying about how I’d grow old and gray all alone, unloved. And, I’d go to work the next day listening to all the chatter about gifts and romantic dinners…with absolutely nothing to contribute. What’s a single person do when the whole world is decorated with red streamers and velvety red hearts and expectations run high? Do we hide at home, afraid of admitting to being partner-less? As if somehow we’ve failed at the basics of life on the planet: finding a mate. God forbid you should go out to dinner alone! Aghast.
Assuming that we can’t do away with Valentine’s Day or would want to, why must we focus on intimate partners? How about turning the holiday, or the faux-holiday into something more charitable. Give a gift of love to the local food bank or bring a bouquet of flowers to that man in the nursing home without any family. Bake a batch of cupcakes and take them to the homeless shelter. This can allow us to satisfy the impulse to buy something, or to be active on this particular ‘love’ day-a good deed to make us feel good about ourselves. I’m going to go look for that heart-shaped muffin tin and make some cranberry muffins.
Photo credit: www.cynical-c.com/ archives/2004_02.html
