Valentine's Day

I won't lie, today was a hard day. But I also know that I wasn't the only person it was hard for. I know of three funerals going on today, ironic since 14 years ago I spent this day at a funeral myself, for my grandmother. I know that there are many hurting people out there, people who are sad, lonely, feeling empty. Valentine's day can be a very happy day, but it can also be incredibly sad for those of us who are hurting, alone, or full of sorrow.

This is the "love" holiday, but I find it rather pathetic that this holiday revolves around gifts, chocolate, jewelry, flowers and romantic candlelit dinners. It's not that any of those things are bad - I like chocolate and flowers as much as the next girl - it's just that they don't really demonstrate love. I sat holding my infant son today watching my dad sit by my mom in her hospital room, hand on her shoulder, just being there with her even though she showed no recognition or response to him. He goes there to be with her day after day even though things are bleak as can be. THAT is real love. My husband spent a month out of work after the accident helping care for our two girls, taking care menial tasks, running errands, doing grocery shopping, running communications for our family and comforting/supporting his shell-shocked, grieving and very pregnant and hormonal wife. That is real love. I have a few very close friends who have listened to me ramble, let me rant and rage, offered strong shoulders for my tears, sat with me in the hospital, written encouragement without judgment in response to this blog and called when they knew I needed to talk. That is real love. I have church body of brothers and sisters who have prayed for me and my family, visited my mother, made us meals, watched my children, cleaned my house, bought us a washer and dryer, respected our rules for privacy, written us notes of encouragement and come along side us with open arms. That is real love. I also have a saviour who made himself human so he could share in our human sufferings and temptations, who allowed himself to be scorned, mocked and rejected, who experienced unimaginable agony and pain to die for our sins, our faults, our human cruelty, and who loves us and forgives us even when we are at our worst. That is real love.

The other stuff...it's the trappings of Hollywood romance. This stuff, it's the real deal.