A Relationship is Everyday
I have this Valentine’s card that my Papa had given to my mom. I’m not sure how I ended up with it, but I’m glad I did. It was probably the only Valentine’s card my Papa ever gave my mom if not one of the very few.
When I was in high school, I recall urging our Papa to get our mom something for their birthday (fascinatingly, they discovered they had the same birthday on their wedding day). So, he left, excitedly returning with a gift. What was it? A coffee maker. Our mom’s reaction? With her Filipino-Spanish accent, “Hm. I don’t even drink coffee!” That was that. An attempt to get Papa to do right only to be back to being just as wrong as usual- perhaps even more wrong than if he hadn’t tried at all.
Papa was a realist and merely focused on the functionality of a gift. Why did he purchase a coffee maker of all things? Because we didn’t have one and it served good purpose. Roses and chocolates? To our Papa, any flowers were a waste of money seeing that it would just die, like money being thrown away. And of course, the same thought was similar for chocolates. Paying for sugar in a fancy box at a high price- why?
This was not to say that our Papa never bought our mom anything. To this day I hold possession of the three still beautiful dresses I undoubtedly know he paid each a good price back in their days. While most of the time practical, he evidently also knew how to show care for the image of his wife. There was no date or time to buy things for Mama. Papa would easily forget those “specially marked” calendar dates. He had always expressed the notion that when you can, you do. Hence, if Mama got a new dress, it’s because they could. And, the dress she received would always be above ordinary, even within such trying times I witnessed they faced. In other words, there may be a crab dinner one day, but sardines for weeks, if not months, to follow.
I must have denied it in our first few years of marriage and I can’t recall when I succumbed to the understanding, but my husband is the same realist that my Papa was when it comes to focusing on dates for gift-giving. I immediately learned after our first Valentine’s together that my husband does not do well with marked calendar events, either. I gave that typical pout one gives where your silence speaks louder than words until eventually, by the end of the day, I received a Valentine’s gift. Don’t ask me what it was. I honestly can’t remember. The funny part of it all was that after I did get something, it wasn’t eventful anymore. Sadly, I was my mom- my husband, wrong for not acknowledging, and even more wrong for trying to make amends.
In his rightful thoughts, my husband has shared with me his perspective of nationally acclaimed events- such dates were created for a way to boost the economy by getting consumers to buy. Let that truth be told, heard, and understood. Still, those marked calendars do exist. And still, that moment of praise is anticipated no matter how one would like to brush it off.
No matter the economical reason, I am going to say this- it’s mostly about being acknowledged by anyone else who may wonder how you were treated on “that” day. Whatever you received is that weapon of defense for anyone who will ask.
Fast-forward to three decades later of being together and I laugh and smile. My husband has showered me with thoughtful tokens of his love, many if not most, on random days. While gifts are last on the love language, due to words of praise as my first, the acknowledgment of such thoughtful receipt is what always necessitates as a must for my heart. Of all those gifts that he has given, however? The answer may surprise you.
My first year of teaching changed our family norm of me answering the phone from home as we would talk about how my husband’s day was going. I always made a point to be there when he’d call and made sure my errands worked around those times he did (when phones were connected to land lines, may I add). Going to work immediately changed that for us, creating a significant feel of adjustment of what had been years, our normal ways.
I still recall smiling the first time I’d get those notes. On random days one would be on my windshield, snugly clipped inside the driver’s side wiper, as I would step in to drive back home. “I love you. From Your Admirer” was one I remember. How I wish I kept every one of those written notes, but what my husband probably didn’t know was that I would keep those in my pocket or close by just to clutch onto them whenever I needed to feel his love in his absence, especially on those days or moments where I really needed to be reminded.
After all these years, I realize that my memories of gift giving are hardly a memory to me. The words spoken, the smiles, the laughters, the gestures of kindness and affection- all that good stuff- priceless. Sure. It’s nice to get flowers for all to see (he has learned to do that, too) but in truth, if I were to rewind back to anything that my husband has ever given me, it wouldn’t be the flowers, candy, jewelry, accessories, or clothes. Honestly, it would be those tiny notes he left on my windshield.
When I look at that Valentine’s card my Papa gave our mom, I smile. It serves as a reminder that one does try to express love; they just don’t always get it right. Still, we must be thankful for who they are- free from pressures of what day it is. I know one day I will no longer have this man I have devoted myself to from the moment we have become one. He may not always get loving me right. (I can’t even do that for myself yet alone another being to try and figure me out!) And yet, what is right is that he loves me. He loves me. Valentine’s Day is just around the corner. But, today, tomorrow, and until the end of time, he loves me.
My Papa’s last words I recall him saying about our mom? “She was a good woman.” Goals.
Everyday is a day to love.
